


Dangerous Distractions

by justabensonfanatic



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Barson, Case Fic, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Rescue, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 61,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25971295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justabensonfanatic/pseuds/justabensonfanatic
Summary: With an escalating serial rapist on the loose, Olivia really can't afford any distractions. But when something shifts between her and their prickly ADA she can't help but wonder... could Rafael Barba be worth it? A classic Benson-centric case fic with a romantic sub-plot. Set in season 14, Benson/Barba. It's going to be a long one, so stick with me!
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson
Comments: 78
Kudos: 139





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I like to create a good balance between casefic and shipping, I hope people enjoy :D

Olivia whipped her head over her shoulder, her breath coming out in sharp pants as she scrambled down the rocky slope. She knew what would happen next if she got caught and she could not let that happen.

She let a small yelp as she slipped on some loose rocks and landed flat on her back, her head colliding hard with the sharp edge of a rock, the wind knocked out of her. There was a blinding flash of white along with the dull cracking sound of her skull and she let out a quiet groan blinking until her eyes finally were able to focus somewhat on the night sky above her. Olivia brought a shaky hand up to touch the back of her head and drew it away quickly, hissing at the pain. She felt the sticky warmth of blood coat her fingers.

_Well fuck._ That wasn't good.

Wincing and gasping, Olivia pulled herself up into a seated position and watched the dark trees sway around her, feeling extraordinarily dizzy. She squeezed her eyes shut, clutching her head, and willed for the world to right itself so she could put as much distance as she could between herself and that dilapidated shack.

Through the pain, she vaguely heard the sound of footsteps and she froze. With the way the hill sloped maybe if she stayed still, he wouldn't see her in the darkness.

If only she were that lucky.

The man let out a delighted cry and Olivia could see the brightness of a flashlight fall on her face through her closed lids. _No, no, no, no, no!_

Ignoring the pain of her head, she pushed herself up from the ground only to fall as she saw white again, the ground refusing to stop swinging wildly.

The man laughed at her, his voice much closer now as Olivia violently threw up. Still retching, she was yanked onto her feet. Fingers prodded the wound on the back of her head causing her to cry out.

"You really did a number on yourself Detective Benson. I did tell you not to run."

"Yeah well, can you blame me?" she asked, surprising herself.

The man let out a startled laugh. "No, I can't say I can. You know, I was worried about switching things up with you, but I think I like you mouthy."

"You're welcome then."

He started dragging her back up the slope, eyeing her suspiciously. "You really did hit your head hard, huh Detective?"

She gave no comment. The combination of his rough jerks and the way she was dragging her feet, trying to gain enough traction to slip free of his grip, was incredibly disorienting and only added to her dizziness. Her movements were proving to be futile and her thoughts were starting to swirl together. As she struggled against him, she could feel herself becoming more and more lightheaded. When her vision finally began to fade, she found herself wishing for the very thing she'd been trying to forget. His intense green eyes inches from hers. As Olivia finally succumbed to the dark of unconsciousness, she could've sworn she smelled the sweet scent of scotch...

* * *

**Four days earlier…**

"Son of a bitch." Olivia stared down at the naked body in the dirt with thinly veiled anger and disgust. Her eyes had bypassed the bruising, bite marks, and beat up face, immediately zeroing in on the woman's right hand. Nick knelt next to the brunette to examine her fingers up close. Her four fingers.

"Yep. Ripped off just like the others," Amaro said with distaste before standing back up to scan the ground around the body.

Olivia shook her head, "Yeah only difference is this one is dead."

It had been a little under a month since they had been called in to the ER for a particularly chilling case where a 24-year-old aspiring artist had been found unconscious in a mall parking garage naked, beaten up, and missing a pinky finger.

Olivia took in the woman's brutally beaten face. "He's escalating. This won't be the only body we find if we don't track this guy down."

Amaro nodded, looking contemplative. "Hopefully, this dump site isn't as clean as the others."

Despite three living victims and three separate dump sites, the perp still hadn't left anything that could lead them to who he was or where he took his vics. The best lead they'd gotten so far was from the garage security cameras where the first vic was dumped but unfortunately, the car the perp used had turned out to be a rental. Olivia had talked to the owner who could only remember that the man who rented the car was average looking and paid with cash.

It was Olivia's turn to kneel down this time; she had caught sight of something. "Hey Amaro, come look. Her other pinky… Looks like it was broken."

"Well that's new," Amaro said with mild surprise. "Guess one finger wasn't enough this time."

"Between this and the state of her face, it definitely looks like he needs more pain to get off," Olivia mused, "but why break this one if ripping off pinkies is his thing?"

Her partner could only shrug. "Who the hell knows? I mean the guy's thing is ripping off pinkies! C'mon, Liv, we gotta talk to CSU and see if they found anything that can help identify her."

"Or identify the sick bastard who did this," Olivia added. Her face was dark as she locked eyes with her partner. "I have a feeling he's just getting started."

Amaro frowned. "Then we gotta shut him down. Now."

* * *

Nick couldn't help but pace in front of the screens in the precinct as he spoke, "Four victims, consistent injuries, although the severity has increased…"

Olivia cut in, arms crossed, "All beaten, all raped, their pinkies literally ripped out of their sockets… This guy is a sadist. Not only that but no DNA, no fluids, no fibers! This guys a ghost too."

"We got to be missing something here," Munch complained. "No one just wakes up one day and decides to start ripping pinkies off women."

This fourth dump site had been just as clean as the rest of them and the squad was not having it. They were all standing in front of the screen with the ID photos of the 3 previous victims and a crime scene photo of their latest Jane Doe.

"Okay," said Benson, thinking hard. "Let's go over what our living vics could tell us. There's got to be a connection here that we're missing besides the fact that they're all brunettes."

"All curvy brunettes in their 30s to early 40s, actually," Amanda added.

"Looks like you're his type Liv," joked Fin.

"Oh, ha ha, Fin. Good thing I've always thought 10 fingers seemed a bit excessive," Liv deadpanned, wiggling her pinky at him while Amanda smirked and Amaro looked affronted. Four hours of sleep did wonders for Liv's sense of humor.

Munch let them at it for a few seconds longer before pulling them back on track. "C'mon guys, keep it together."

Olivia grimaced at the reminder, "That was in poor taste. Sorry, Munch."

Fin's smile faded as he clicked on the photo of the first vic, pulling her file up on the screen. His voice became serious as he examined the file. "Our first vic is Katherine Moss, age 34, single, lives in a tiny apartment in Queens. She recalled the most out of the three living vics but that's not saying much seeing one's in a coma. All she remembered was going to a bar downtown and then nothing but flashes."

Olivia, who had taken her statement spoke up. "Her tox screen showed traces of ketamine in her system which accounts for the memory loss. She said she couldn't place where, but distinctly remembered trying to run through trees in the dark. She was found in a parking garage in the West Side by a parking attendant at 4 in the morning. The security cams gave us nothing but a dead-end rental car."

Fin quickly pulled up the file for the second vic and continued,

"Emily Hardwick, age 38, also single, lives with her sister in Upper Manhattan. She was found in an alley in Downtown Manhattan 2 weeks after Kathrine Moss, almost dead from dehydration. She has no memory of where she was taken from but also recalled a forested area and laying on rocks. Tox screen again had ketamine."

Rollins spoke up. "Well, it's definitely not a lot to go on but supports the idea he takes them to the same place."

Benson nodded. "That's what we were thinking. Now our third vic was found a week after Emily Hardwick." The woman's photo popped up on the screen along with photos from her rape kit. "Sophia Waterhouse, 42, was found behind a rec center in the East Side. She is still in the hospital in a coma due to brain trauma. She lives in the Bronx with her husband who hasn't left her side since she was found."

"And today," Amaro said, "four days later, we found Jane Doe in a construction site in Midtown Manhattan. She was DOA and we're still waiting to hear from Melinda about anything that could help us identify her."

"We're thinking the guy lives somewhere in Manhattan, that's where all the dump sites have been." Fin pulled up a map with the homes of the victims and the dump sites clearly marked. "If you look, all the dump sites are centralized in Manhattan, but his vics live all over the place."

"Okay so we look at their activities then, see if there's any overlap," Munch said.

"That's what we've been doing, but so far we haven't found anything." Olivia looked vexed. "We've got to keep digging."

"Yeah you do!" An irritated voice called out from across the bullpen. The squad looked over to find Barba clutching a newspaper and his briefcase with a dangerously irate expression on his face. "Can someone explain to me WHY the DA's office wasn't informed about the… what are they calling him?" He brought the newspaper up, twisting his hand awkwardly so he could read it, "Oh yeah that's right. The 'Pinky Pervert'. Very catchy."

"Barba!" Munch said, clearly hoping to head off what was shaping up to be a long tirade from the tightly wound ADA. "We were just about to head over and fill you in."

Barba cocked his head to stare at him. "Oh really, you were? A little too late for that Sergeant, I just had to explain to my bosses why on earth I had no idea about the latest public menace terrorizing the city because your detectives couldn't bother to pick up the phone! Let me guess, the captain's at 1PP?" He didn't wait for a response. "Wonderful. Who's running point on this one?"

Olivia almost felt sheepish but held her ground. "Amaro and I."

"Great. Olivia, come with me, I need you to fill me in. I have a meeting with my bosses in an hour and I need to be, in their words, 'considerably more informed.'"

Olivia glanced back at Munch who shrugged unhelpfully. Guess this was happening then.

Olivia made a show of sounding irritable but secretly didn't mind getting out of the precinct. She'd been working double shifts since the third vic and had been here for far too long. "By all means, Barba. Let me just drop what I'm doing and fill you in."

"Why thank you!" he shot back with just as much sarcasm.

Olivia grabbed the file off her desk as Barba waited for her, looking at his watch impatiently.

As she walked past him, she shot a look at him and punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Sometimes you can be such an **ass** , Barba." He laughed a bit at that and followed.

Barba and Benson had an interesting dynamic that Olivia didn't like to think too much about because, if she was being honest with herself, it often toed the line of overt flirtation and that was something she just couldn't afford to unpack at the moment.

Barba, on the other hand, loved to think about it, especially on nights where he found himself alone and entirely too tense. He loved imagining her in his office, the two of them arguing passionately about something mundane (oh, it always started off with arguing) before she'd lean in closer to jab a finger at him. He'd grab her wrist and her breath would catch slightly, her eyes darkening with lust as she was left speechless by his bold move, her lips parting slightly—

"Barba!" He was pulled out of his dangerous thoughts immediately. _Shit!_ They were standing in front of the elevator and Olivia was looking at him with a curious expression on her face. "Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?"

Olivia locked eyes with the lawyer for the briefest of moments and she could've sworn she saw a flash of desire in his intense gaze before he tore his eyes from her, shaking his head a little.

"Yeah sorry, no, you're going to have to repeat all of that."

She rolled her eyes. "Keep up will you."

They stepped into the elevator and turned to start their briefing when there was a sudden influx of people who crowded in, and they found themselves squished together in the corner. As he let out an irritated huff of air, her hair fluttered, and she was suddenly incredibly aware of how close they were. Like her whole side pressed into him, close. Her breath hitched.

_Keep it together Benson. It's just Barba._

Barba seemed to be oblivious to her dilemma and pointedly glanced around at all the people surrounding them before rolling his eyes at her with exaggerated exasperation. Olivia could almost hear him pompously complaining about "allll the people in here!" He could be so charming sometimes it hurt. She shot back a smirk and gave her own little eyeroll back, shaking her head, clearly meant to agree with his unspoken sentiment. When he gave her a wide grin that made his eyes crinkle, so unlike the smug smirks she was used to, her heart skipped. What was this man doing to her?

The elevator doors opened with a ding and people shuffled out, effectively cutting their little moment short. Olivia let him get out before her, giving her a second to snap out of it. She was here to brief their ass of an ADA and nothing else.

_Although_ , her eyes flicked downwards, _I have to admit, the ass does have a nice one._

He turned to face her with a more serious expression and asked "So? The Pinky Pervert?"

Relieved he didn't catch her checking him out she spoke a little louder than she should've and with too much enthusiasm. "Of course!" She could slap herself. _Ohh my god Benson! What is with you today!?_ Barba's eyebrows quirked a little at the light blush on her cheeks.

"I mean, yes. Let me fill you in." And so she did.


	2. Chapter 2

He'd handed her the coffee cup without thinking, really. Now buying the two cups of coffee, that was deliberate but it wasn't until he was actually standing in front of her and instinct took over that Barba knew he'd actually go through with it. Ever a man of logic, he'd told himself as he handed the money over to the vendor that if he chickened out, he could just blame his crippling caffeine addiction for buying two cups but surprisingly, he hadn't needed the excuse. Barba had actually done it. He just... handed her the coffee cup.

In all, it had taken about 20 minutes for Olivia to get Barba caught up on the "Pinky Pervert." The walk over had been all business and after a quick stop at the coffee cart outside the courthouse, she'd handed him the file with the most current information with a curt nod. Their briefing had been efficient and productive; after he looked over the file, he'd be all set for his meeting.

Or he would be if he could actually concentrate enough to do it. Instead of flipping through the file, instead of preparing, Barba was sat there in his office trying to figure out why he'd gotten the goddamn cup of coffee in the first place and exactly when he'd decided to be nice to Olivia Benson. Rafael Barba wasn't **nice.** Snarky, demanding, cocky, sure. But not **nice.**

Of course, when he'd handed her this "goddamn" cup of coffee, he'd seen the surprise on her face and panicked. To cover it up, he'd immediately done what he did best: talk. Talk so he couldn't think too hard about the weird warmth in his chest as she took it gratefully. Talk so she couldn't ask him why he got it for her without prompting because if he was being honest with himself, he didn't know then and he still didn't know now. He'd just looked over at her while he was standing in line and she... looked tired. Barba just wanted to help, that's all.

As he came to this realization, it hit him and he shook his head slowly. _Dios m_ _í_ _o._ He was doing it again. Barba wanted to help another beautiful woman and doing that, wanting to help beautiful women... Well, it had never worked out very well for him in the past. He buried his head in his hands as he came to the troubling conclusion that between their argumentative work relationship, their witty banter, and the way she filled out those pantsuits, Olivia Benson was very likely going to be the death of him. If he actually started having **feelings** for her, too... He ran his hands down his face and allowed himself a groan before pulling himself together, his jaw set. Now was not the time. He had a meeting in—he checked his watch—20 minutes and a fairly thick file to review. Whatever this was could wait. Barba was one of the fiercest prosecutors in New York City who's faced down some of the worst scum the city had to offer; if he could do that, he could keep her out of his head for a bit... Right?

* * *

It might've just been the caffeine talking, but Olivia's head was back in the game. As she waited for the elevator, her thoughts wandered from reviewing the case for the hundredth time to the squad, feeling determination rise in her chest. These were some of the best detectives she'd ever known; surely they'd find something soon.

As the elevator doors opened, Benson heard a familiar voice call out to her. "Hold the doors!"

As Captain Cragen stalked into the elevator wearing his dress blues and a dark expression on his face, Benson swallowed her greeting but now that they were closer, however, Olivia could see that his expression looked less angry and more annoyed.

"Is everything okay, Cap?" she asked, concerned. The doors closed and she pressed the button.

"I've just come back from 1PP," he said darkly, and she grimaced in response. "Since the papers all started screaming about the 'Pinky Pervert,' 1PP's been backed into a corner. They want the public informed yesterday. Please tell me you got something from this last crime scene."

"We're still waiting to hear back from Melinda's office but it's not looking like it, Cap," Benson said with an equally dark expression.

"Any luck identifying our Jane Doe?"

"We're canvassing, checking missing persons but nothing's popped up yet."

The doors opened and they stepped out, heading over to where the squad was huddled around the screens.

As they walked over, Cragen called out to them. "What are we looking at here? Any good news?"

"Nothing new Cap, but Rollins came up with something that could help us get our guy," Amaro said as Benson crossed over to stand next to him.

Benson felt a weight lift off her shoulders at the news and their captain turned to Rollins expectantly. "What'd you come up with?"

"It's what Munch said about no one just waking up and ripping women's fingers off that got me thinking," Amanda started, (Olivia didn't miss the smug look on the sergeant's face and smirked), "But it was this that cinched it," Amanda continued while pointing at an up-close crime scene photo of Jane Doe's hands. Olivia's smile faded as the captain stepped forward to examine the photo.

"Besides being dead, the only difference between this last vic and the others is that Jane Doe's left pinky was broken. Now it's a bit of long shot, and I know nothing popped up in VICAP with our perp's M.O., but I thought we could try widening our perspective to look at any perps who injured or broke any of their victim's fingers and just go from there." She looked at Cragen who was still examining the photo of Jane Does' hand. "Who knows, it could be that he started out breaking pinkies before he escalated to ripping them off."

Cragen stepped away from the screen as he turned to face Amanda with an approving nod. "Yes, this," he brought his hand up, pointing at the crime scene photo, "this could be it. Nice job Rollins." Amanda gave a small smile as he turned to Fin who was sat at his desk, "How many popped up on VICAP?"

"Well, so far we got eleven freaks to look at in the city who aren't locked up or dead with sexual assault or rape charges who either 'broke or dislocated one or more of their victim's fingers,'" Fin read off his computer screen with distaste. "Of the eleven, six live in Manhattan so Amanda and I will start there and keep looking."

"While Fin and Rollins are doing that, I was thinking Liv and I should reach out to Emily and see if she remembers anything more," Amaro said, "It's been over a week now, maybe some of her memory came back and she can give us some new information."

Cragen and Benson both nodded in agreement, and Olivia spoke. "I think that's a good idea. If we could just get an idea of where she got drugged, maybe we could catch the guy before he does it again. And while we're at it, we could also check in with Katherine too, see how's she holding up."

"Well that's a good start but 1PP wants answers now," Cragen mused, his mouth in a thin line. "We've got nothing on our Jane Doe but what do we know about the perp?"

"Well, he's definitely meticulous," Benson explained, "I mean, 4 vics, 4 dump sites, and nothing? This guy's gotta be smart." She shook her head a little before continuing. "Maybe Rollin's right and he's done something like this before. With the dump sites so clean it could be that he learned from the past."

"Or maybe he's just never been caught in the first place," Fin countered.

"Either way, we're thinking he probably lives somewhere in Manhattan based on his dump sites but his vics are from all over the city," Amaro said, "There's just not a lot to go on there."

"Well, he's gotta be pulling from some victim pool," Olivia argued, "We just gotta find what links our vics."

The captain nodded, before he turned to Olivia, noting the bags under her eyes. "How long have you been here, Olivia?"

Olivia frowned at his question. "Approaching 24 hours but I'm good, Cap, really," she said.

He sighed. "No, no I need you rested for when the shit hits the fan." Olivia didn't know whether to be insulted or not before remembering that technically she was the primary on this case. _Wait, when shit hits the fan?_ Seeing his detectives' confused expressions, he went on. "The chief wants a tip line set up for tomorrow," he explained, and they all groaned. Tip lines just brought the crazy out of NYC.

"Really, cap?" Munch complained.

"Really, and I'm putting you in charge of running it." He turned to Amanda and Fin, "I want you two checking every suspect on that list, don't exclude anyone unless you've got something concrete. Olivia, go home for now, rest up. We're going to be following a lotta leads when the phones start ringing off the hook." Before Olivia could say anything otherwise, he turned to Nick. "What about you Amaro?"

"I haven't been here as long as Liv, I can help with the tip line and set up a meeting with the vics for tomorrow."

"Okay good. I've got a press conference later so I've gotta prep. Everyone, get going."

Everyone scattered, off to their assignments but when Benson didn't move, the captain shot her a look. "If we need you for anything we'll call. Go, Olivia."

She gave him a weak smile, knowing when to quit. As she gathered her things, Nick called out to her, "Hey, see you later, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. See you then."

* * *

As Olivia headed to the precinct parking lot, she pondered over what to do, unsure of where she wanted to go. She could go back to her apartment, but she was too caffeinated to sleep now thanks to Barba who had come back from the coffee cart with two coffees instead of one. She had raised her eyebrows at him but took the cup he'd held out to her without comment as he immediately continued on with what they had been talking about. Neither of them gave any acknowledgment to the small act of familiarity but she couldn't help but feel like something had shifted when he stretched his hand out to her.

By the time Benson got to the car, she knew exactly where she was going and headed off to the local gym she frequented due to their 24-hour policy and killer set of punching bags. She'd discovered her love for boxing when she'd joined the academy and had stuck with it ever since. It was the perfect full-body workout and had helped her vent off stress after many difficult days at the 1-6. Today would be no exception.

As she double-checked that she had her gear before starting up her car, Olivia reflected on exactly how crappy today had been. Seeing that poor Jane Doe laying there in the dirt had hurt; Jane Does always did. She pulled out onto the street and stared up at a traffic light waiting for it to go green with a somber expression on her face. She ran through the details of the case again and felt a stab of guilt. Olivia couldn't help beating herself up a little. Four vics in a month. In a month! And nothing? She should've thought of Amanda's idea earlier. Maybe then Jane Doe would've lived…

Her musing had taken her several blocks before Benson pulled over and parked, ready to punch the fuck out of some leather. It had taken some getting used to, but after a while she'd learned to use that guilt as fuel, turning the frustration towards herself outwards to motivate herself and get justice for the victim. Or in this case, victims. Sometimes, though, it wasn't enough, and she needed the physical outlet too. Like today.

As she grabbed her bag from the back seat, she shook herself out of her dark thoughts and tried to focus on the few positive parts of the day. They'd come up with some good plans; something was bound to work out. And then there was Barba. She couldn't help the little grin on her face and tried to ignore the little flip her stomach made when her mind wandered to the well-dressed ADA she'd shared a moment with. She had to admit… today could've been worse. The feeling in her stomach changed as she remembered the feeling of her body pressed up to Barba in the elevator and she flushed at her erogenous reaction. Oh yeah. She would definitely need the physical outlet; Olivia had more than one type of tension to work off tonight.

She entered the gym, but before she could head off to the locker rooms to change, Olivia was held up by the enthusiastic greeting of one of her very few outside-of-work friends.

"Olivia!" Ray exclaimed, "How's it hanging? It's been a while!"

At first glance, Ray Simmons was an intimidating man at the impressive height of 6'5". He was surprisingly fit for a man in his late 40s and had huge biceps, but he also had an infectious smile and a carefree attitude that Benson found incredibly refreshing. She'd been going to his gym for about a year and a half now and besides it being one of the closest 24-hour gyms to both her apartment and the precinct, she had no problems admitting he was one of the primary reasons she stayed loyal to the modest gym.

"Ah, you know how it is, Ray, I got caught up at work. The only thing keeping me going right now is coffee and annoyance," Benson said with an exaggerated grimace.

"Annoyance, huh? Who pissed you off this time?" Ray teased. Because he had no idea who any of her work friends really were, Benson felt comfortable bitching to Ray between reps every now and then and by now he had a fairly detailed picture in his mind of her squad and their prickly ADA.

Olivia rolled her eyes at him. "Watch it, Simmons, or I'll switch to Planet Fitness!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Ah, you're right, I'm bluffing. Now go away, I need to punch some shit," She gave him a wide grin to show him she was joking before heading off to change.

Olivia headed to her usual locker and quickly changed into some tight leggings and a sports bra, forgoing the shirt for today seeing it'd just get soaked and be in the way. After pulling on her sneakers, she pulled her hair up and strapped on her gloves, feeling some of the stress melting away already. Time to go.

With every punch, Olivia could feel the awfulness of the day (and her sexual tension) fading. She had no idea how long she'd been at it but by the time she was finished, her body was covered in sweat and the wisps of hair that fell out of her ponytail were stuck to the back of her neck. Her arms and core and, well, everything, was deliciously sore. But she also felt lighter than she had in weeks.

"Damn, Benson, what did those bags ever do to you?" Ray joked as she finally took her gloves off.

Olivia laughed a little and swiped at the sweat on her forehead. "Oh, nothing. Wrong time, wrong place. Today was a bitch."

Just then her phone decided to go off. "And it just keeps going!" She let out a groan and bent over to pick it up, seeing it was Amaro and answered, careful not to leave sweat on her screen.

"So you guys DID need me. What's up?"

Amaro's voice sounded apologetic, "Hey, sorry Liv, it's not for long, I swear. We just need to get in touch with Barba for a warrant ASAP and he's not picking up. Everyone's tied up so if you could just go down there, that'd be great."

Olivia sighed, throwing her head back in frustration. "Yeah, yeah of course. I'm close by anyways. I'll call you after."

Her partner sounded relieved. "Thank you so much Liv, I'll send you the info and let the captain know it's taken care of."

As she hung up, her irritation faded as she realized needing a warrant was a good thing; they must've found something!

"You gotta go?" Ray asked knowingly. This was not the first time the detective had left in the middle of a workout.

"Yep, duty calls," Olivia said with a little salute and headed off to the locker room leaving Ray's laughs behind her.

She put her gloves away and sighed. Amaro had sounded pretty desperate so she'd better delay her shower. She'd be in and out of the courthouse and back to her apartment in no time anyways. Running low on caffeine, Olivia's exhaustion was settling into her sore limbs as she looked at her uncomfortable jeans and her mind rebelled the idea of changing. _Fuck it. Not today._ She used a towel to get the worst of her sweat before Olivia threw on her workout shirt and stuffed her work clothes in her bag. She could deal with everything else later. Right now, she had a warrant to get.


	3. Chapter 3

The precinct was a cacophony of noise as tables were set up and phones were brought in, getting ready for the even louder chaos that was sure to begin the second the press conference was over. Amaro and Munch were the only ones from their squad left at the 1-6 currently as Amanda and Fin were chasing down the men on their list and the Captain was prepping to inform the public about the elusive and already infamous "Pinky Pervert."

After helping with some delegation, Amaro had left the sergeant to it, and he was now in a quiet interrogation room trying to get in touch with either of his unresponsive vics. He sighed. Liv was so much better at this stuff; she just bonded so well with victims.

Nick was in a decidedly gloomy mood but he knew there was anger bubbling directly under the surface. There always was these days. The frustration at their inability to crack this case was becoming harder and harder to ignore now that it was getting so much attention and it didn't help, of course, that it'd been too long since he'd seen Zara. And then, obviously, there was Maria needing a... "break." His face darkened and his fists clenched before he pushed the thought of his wife away. Bad idea. He was better gloomy and reflective than spitting fire.

He dialed Emily Hardwick's number and waited. After several rings, the call went to voicemail and Nick closed his eyes briefly, hating that he would have to remind the woman of the worst thing that happened to her over a voicemail. He listened to Emily's recorded message and reflected on how much something like this could change someone. She wasn't the same woman who'd recorded this. There was a before and an after for her now. He shook himself out of it at "the sound of the tone" and spoke.

"Hello Emily, this is Detective Amaro from SVU. I just wanted to reach out—"

Amaro's message was cut off short as his phone rang and he pulled it away from his ear to see that Emily was already calling back. He ended his call and picked up.

"Hello?" Her voice sounded tired.

He'd better make this quick. "Hi Emily, I'm sure you remember—"

"Oh yes," she cut him off, "Um, detective Amaro right?" There was apprehension in her words now.

"Yeah, I was calling to see if we could set up a time to talk, with Detective Benson there too, and see if you've remembered anything else that could help us get the guy who did this to you," he said, keeping his voice decidedly professional but not lacking warmth.

"He knew my name."

The admission caught him off guard and his eyebrows shot up. When he didn't respond, Emily continued.

"I still don't know how he d-drugged me but I remember flashes of him, uh, calling my name while he..." Her voice was shaky and tearful and when she didn't continue Nick spoke.

"That could be very helpful to know, thank you for telling me." He paused again to see if she'd go on but all he could hear was her shaky breaths. "Is it okay if we set up a time to meet? It can be here at the precinct or we could go to you, whatever you're comfortable with."

"Um, sure."

While they made plans for her to come into the precinct tomorrow afternoon, Amaro's mind went into overdrive trying to put the pieces together with this new bit of information.

They'd all suspected that there had to be something all the vics had in common at least, that the perp had to be pulling from some victim pool, but maybe this could finally prove that. Nick hung up after they finished, looking contemplative. He supposed the bastard could've learned her name when he drugged her, but if this wasn't just completely random, and the perp knew these women's names from somewhere, it could just be a matter of finding that link! He replayed the words in his head and his excitement at the new information faded. As realization sunk in, his stomach sank as well. They already fucking knew finding a link was important. That's why he'd called.

He continued to sit there, getting angrier and angrier at how circular his thinking was becoming. This didn't give him shit! He slammed his fist on the table before shooting up, the chair toppling behind him with a loud clatter. Every fucking time they thought they found something new _._ He started pacing.

Nick jumped violently at a knock on the door and swore. The door shoved open and Fin walked in leading a man with his hands cuffed behind his back.

Amaro looked from the man who was scowling to Fin who had a very satisfied smirk and hope started to bubble up in his chest.

Fin started cuffing the guy to the desk and spoke, "Could you call Liv? Barba's not responding and we," he glared at the man, "need a warrant."

Nick nodded and dialed his partner, smiling at her greeting: "So you guys DID need me. What's up?"

* * *

Barba had gone down one of his rabbit holes and was deep in his case files when he heard the small knock on his door. The noise pulled him back and he looked out the window to see a darkened sky. _Oh damn, how long have I… I'd better answer._ "Come in!"

Carmen stuck her head through the doorway, "I've got detective Benson here to see you, she said she'd be quick."

Benson? _Fucking hell…_ He closed his eyes briefly and willed himself to ignore the goddamn coffee cup from earlier (which of course just reminded him about the goddamn coffee cup from earlier) and he sighed, "Send her in." Carmen nodded and Barba kept his eyes down, searching for his phone as Benson walked in. _Where the hell had he put it?_

"Hey Barba," Olivia said, amused to find their normally composed ADA looking flustered as he searched through a pile of papers. He still didn't look up and just waved his hand up distractedly in greeting.

His voice was clipped and laced with sarcasm as he pulled open one of his desk drawers. "What'd you want this time, Benson?"

Olivia rolled her eyes at his crabbiness, "We need a warrant."

That got his attention. He brought his head up, intending to look more annoyed than he felt, and almost choked as he took in the surprising sight of her in a light blue, low hanging exercise shirt that showed off her matching sports bra paired with some very tight workout leggings. Barba managed to turn his strangled groan into a semi-passable cough, but Olivia wasn't a detective for nothing.

She couldn't look him in the eyes, suddenly feeling very exposed. "What?" she said defensively, "I just came from a workout." When he continued to look flustered, she pressed on, "Look we need this warrant Barba, and I'm not even supposed to be working right now."

Rafael was stammering, "Oh, um, it's nothing, I just—You caught me off guard." _I'll say_. The outfit showed off far more of her curves, hell, far more of **Olivia** , than he was used to causing a sudden rush of blood to his cock that left him reeling.

"I can see that."

Barba's eyes widened and he instinctually shifted to hide his erection, causing the detective to suck in a breath. _Oh fuck._ _She could've meant…_ Rafael could feel his face getting hotter as he realized he'd given himself away.

Olivia was stunned and couldn't help it as her eyes flicked towards his crotch. She felt a rush of heat between her legs and bit her lip; if she didn't know any better, she'd say Barba liked what he saw. A lot.

Barba had not missed her little glance and prayed to god she couldn't see his inappropriate response to her body. _Her fucking amazing body._ Desperate to gloss over his embarrassment and desperate to distract from the enticing way she was biting her lip, he did what he did best: talk.

"So, the warrant? I'm hoping you have probable cause Benson, I'd hate for you to have wasted a trip here for nothing."

Olivia shook her head a little and swallowed her shock at his reaction before scowling, more than happy to focus on being annoyed rather than... whatever that was. "Look, Barba, all I know is what Amaro sent me. I wouldn't even be here now if you could, oh, I don't know, answer the phone? Remind me, what was that you said earlier about us detectives 'not bothering to pick up a phone?'"

Barba felt a rush of intense relief at their apparently mutual decision to gloss over his inappropriate erection as he spoke "Well, detective," he drawled, "It would seem that I have misplaced my cell."

Olivia raised her eyebrows at that. "Rafael Barba without his cell phone? How the hell did that happen?" she teased, the corner of her lips quirking upwards without her permission.

The lawyer shot her a look, avidly avoiding the very compelling sight of her breasts being pushed together as she crossed her arms at him. "Ha ha, Benson. We've gotten distracted again. The warrant?"

Distracted indeed. Barba had discarded his suit jacket at some point during the day and rolled up his sleeves displaying some surprisingly toned forearms that had caught Olivia's eyes.

"Ah, yes, the warrant. Um, just a sec." She pulled up her text from Amaro and was about to read it off when Barba spoke.

"No, you know what, this is ridiculous," he complained. "If you weren't there, there's no point in you explaining this second hand. Use those detective skills you supposedly have and help me find my phone. I'll just call Amaro myself."

Olivia rolled her eyes but he had a point. "Fine. But then I'm going home." She walked over to his couch and started flipping cushions while he searched the other drawers in his desk. "I've only gotten four hours of sleep in the past 2 days and ideally, I'd like to remain awake while I drive back."

Barba stopped searching. "You've only gotten four hours of sleep and yet you went to the gym?" he sounded incredulous.

"Well **someone** gave me coffee at 4 in the afternoon so by the time the captain let me loose I was too keyed up to sleep."

The goddamn cup of coffee. Barba's breath hitched at the reminder. "Next time I won't bother then."

"No, don't!" she winced at her volume. "I mean… it was nice." Her voice was soft and decidedly vulnerable, and Barba felt the warmth in his chest again. "Plus," she added hastily, "I hadn't gone to the gym in a while, I needed that."

Barba nodded at her with a curious expression and stayed quiet, choosing not to say anything as he bent down to check the floor around his desk. Silence fell over them and Benson took the time to kneel on the floor and check under the couch.

"How'd your phone wind up under the coach, Barba?"

"You found it?!" The lawyer sounded incredibly relieved and was next to her in a second as he held out his hand to her. She went to hand him the phone and he rolled his eyes at her before grabbing her by the hand and pulling her up.

"I can get up perfectly fine, Barba!" she exclaimed, once again blushing as she pulled her hand back.

The lawyer just smirked at her. "Just making sure you wouldn't fall asleep on the floor Benson, you look awful."

Olivia smacked his arm, " 'Awful' huh? Go on, don't hold back now," she rolled her eyes, "You must be fantastic with the ladies Barba." She mentally cringed at herself for saying 'ladies' and prayed he wouldn't comment.

He didn't. "You know what I mean, Olivia. Now let me call Amaro."

She handed him the phone and pretended not to watch him as she busied herself by wiping nonexistent dust from her knees.

"Amaro, it's Barba. Benson stopped by, said you needed a warrant. What are we looking at here?"

Instead of listening to the one-sided conversation or thinking too much about the sexually charged exchange they had moments ago, Olivia took the time to actually read what Amaro had sent her. She'd been driving when he'd texted and had been preoccupied with other thoughts on the ride up the elevator. She blamed the exhaustion, really. And her hormones.

It turned out that one of the suspects from Amanda's list had bolted when Fin and Rollins had approached him and was now refusing to answer any and all questions. Between his past and their inability to draw any form of alibi from the man, they wanted a warrant to search his apartment as soon as possible.

From what she could tell, they may have to wait on that.

Barba sounded tired as he answered the phone. "Look, Amaro, you're going to need to bring me more than just suspicious behavior and a dark past and you know it. Just hold him for now and find me something else, a motive, a shred of forensics, something, and then I can get you your warrant."

As Barba hung up he let out a heavy sigh and turned, surprised to see that Olivia was still there. "I thought you said you were exhausted, detective. What are you still doing here?"

Olivia stifled a yawn. "Just wanted to see if you'd get the warrant, Barba. Should've known you'd stonewall us."

Rafael scoffed and leaned against his desk. "Hey, you guys don't have enough, and you know it."

Olivia frowned a bit, but she had to admit it. "Ah, I guess you're right," she conceded.

The lawyer's eyebrows shot up and he grinned broadly, "Excuse me, but did I just hear Olivia Benson say I was right? Noo, that can't be, say it again a little louder this time," He cupped his hand around his ear as if hard of hearing, looking at her with a shit-eating grin on his face.

At that, Benson positively scowled, "Ughh, you're SUCH an ass, Barba!"

He appraised her with a little smirk, "Ah, you love it," he teased causing Olivia to bristle.

As she moved forward to get up in his face, Barba pushed off the desk so they were standing toe to toe. His voice darkened. "You love it," he repeated, feeling a little reckless. The small part of his brain not obsessed with the way Olivia's pupils dilated screamed at him. _What the hell are you doing?! T_ _he death of me, remember?_

The sudden movement startled her as they locked eyes and the tension in the room became charged and hot. She swallowed heavily. Barba's eyes were intense and caused something inside her to stir as she stared him down. When she finally spoke her voice was rough and full of wanting. "Do I?"

She watched Barba's eyes flit downwards to her mouth and her breath caught in her throat. She looked like a deer in headlights and Barba found himself enjoying it far more than he should. He swallowed his nerves and threw caution to the wind. "I think you do, Olivia."

Hearing her name on his tongue sent a shiver down her spine and her eyes closed momentarily. Away from the intensity of his stare, the detective was able to suck in a shaky breath. She opened her eyes again and spoke in a rough whisper, "What are we doing, Barba?"

Rafael felt like he was doused with cold water and he pulled away from her, blinking rapidly. "I—I don't know."

As he stepped back, Olivia found herself wishing she hadn't spoken. But then again… "Should we?"

He knew exactly what she meant and the lawyer rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes anywhere but on her. She'd never seen him look this thrown. "I don't know…" he repeated.

She shook her head a little to clear the fog of lust in her mind. She needed perspective. Her voice was soft, "I'm exhausted, Rafael, can we… talk about this tomorrow?"

When he didn't speak, she misinterpreted his silence as an answer and was mortified to hear herself ask, "Please?"

Barba had been struck dumb when she'd said his first name and shook himself out of it at her plea. "Yes, yes of course," he rushed to say. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't. You don't have anything to be sorry for," she said with conviction. He gave her a little half-smile and she continued, her cheeks still hot. "I'm, uh, I'm going to go."

He couldn't stop himself. "Drinks tomorrow? So we can talk?"

She grinned. "Sounds perfect." Olivia gave him a little wave before heading out.

"Bye Liv."

"Bye Rafael."


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn't often that the 1-6 had to set up a tip line but whenever they did, they were always memorable. Olivia was sure today would be no exception as she weaved her way through the bullpen dodging people left and right, phones, like the captain had predicted, ringing off the hook.

Olivia vividly remembered the last time they had a tip line. The squad had a high-profile child abduction case at the time that, while being incredibly draining, had fortunately ended well. Surprisingly, it wasn't the more chilling aspects of the case that stuck with her, but rather when she first introduced Amaro to the long-standing tradition between the older detectives crudely named "Catch the Crazy."

Whenever there was a tip line and the detectives inevitably won phone duty, they would sit there and take calls, only writing down credible leads and, as Amaro had quickly guessed, the craziest conspiracies New Yorkers could throw at the NYPD. Munch, of course, was currently in the lead, having had the craziest callers for the last 3 tip lines in a row now, but Olivia blamed that on him getting saddled with phone duty more often (and on him being a magnet for conspiracy). As tip line cases were always high stress, the game often provided the levity necessary to get through the day.

Olivia waved to Munch who was currently on a call and he gave her a smile as she made her way towards her partner. She noticed how his hair was sticking up strangely in the back and smirked, ready to tease him about it, when she immediately noticed the tension in Nick's shoulders.

"Olivia!" Amaro looked relieved to see her, "Hey, I hope you got some sleep, we still haven't gotten this guy to crack and we want you to take a swing at it."

 _Hitting the ground running today, huh?_ "Sure, where do you guys have him?"

"Interrogation 1. The captain and Barba are there to watch. Apparently, both their bosses want the creep as badly as we do."

Nick was oblivious to the light blush on her cheeks as she spoke, "Glad the DA's office is taking this seriously. What's everyone else up to?"

"Well, with you and I interrogating, that'll free Amanda and Fin to go check out the other guys on the list and as you can see," he nodded over at the sergeant, "Munch is still on phone duty."

"Of course he is," she said with a smirk, "Sorry I ducked out yesterday, did Katherine and Emily get back to you?"

"Liv, you didn't 'duck out,' you went home after 40 something hours," Nick chastised, "And to answer your question, I called Emily and Katherine last night but Katherine didn't get back to me, so we'll just interview Emily this afternoon."

"Well that's better than nothing," Olivia said, his comment about her going home causing her to notice the bags under Nick's eyes. She vaguely wondered why it seemed like there was never a time when they both were fully functioning. "By the way, Nick, how long have you been at it, you look exhausted."

"Liv, I'm fine," he snapped, "I got my 10 in the cribs don't worry." _Ah, so that explains the hair_.

"Alright, I trust you, just looking out for my partner," she said, hands up in surrender. Nick's irritation faded and he smiled gratefully at her. She elbowed him gently in the ribs before speaking, "How do we wanna play this? For the interrogation?"

"Well," Nick said with a bit of a grin, "If he's our guy, you'd be exactly his type."

"True, true," she said smirking. "I guess you know the drill then."

"Perfect."

Cragen, Fin, Rollins, and Barba were all standing outside of the interrogation room watching through the glass when the two partners walked up.

Everyone else seemed oblivious to the way Benson and Barba were avidly avoiding each other's eyes as the captain spoke.

"Ah, good, Liv, you're here," the captain said, waving a hand towards the window. "Meet Jack Whitaker."

Fin handed her a file and she flipped through it while he talked. "This guy's a real piece of work," he stated, looking through the glass distastefully. "He bolted when Rollins and I came asking questions and hasn't said a word since. Annoying but at least he hasn't asked for a lawyer yet," he added and Olivia smirked.

Rollins jumped in, continuing Fin's overview of the guy. "Whitaker served 5 years up at Attika for third-degree rape and menacing when he copped a plea for the rape of his next-door neighbor, Julie Crawford. He was let loose for good behavior 7 years ago and according to his P.O., he's supposedly been a law-abiding citizen since his release," she said with skepticism.

Fin scoffed before speaking, "Doubt it. His M.O. has some similarities to our perp, but obviously," he shot a look at Barba, "it's not close enough for a warrant."

Olivia read off the file, "It says here Whitaker pushed his way into Crawford's apartment one night, beat her unconscious, and raped her before he dislocated her pinky and ring finger when she woke up during the attack because she was," her face twisted, "'crying too much.'" She paused, looking thoughtful. "Well, that's definitely similar but are we sure this is the guy?" She flipped back a page or two, double-checking the file, "Whitaker never finished high school and has only ever worked at various diners and low-end restaurants. Not exactly a genius, by any standards."

"I don't know Liv, but like Fin said, when we came asking questions, he bolted." She looked at Cragen, "Hey cap, are Fin and I good? We still got 3 other guys to check out."

"Yeah get out of here."

As the two detectives headed off, Benson turned to Barba whose eyes flicked up and down her body so quickly she almost missed it. She ignored the way her heart rate quickened and prayed she wasn't blushing as she spoke, "What do you need from him?"

Barba smirked, "Well, an admission of guilt would be nice. But I'll settle for anything that could implicate the man of any current wrongdoing. Current," he emphasized. "I have a feeling judges are going to be a bit more lenient with this case but they've got to have something to work with."

"Alright, sounds good, let's do this," Amaro said a bit impatiently but with determination. Benson turned to her partner who opened the door for her with a grin. She gave him a smirk back and stepped into the room. Sometimes she forgot how much she loved a good interrogation.

Olivia schooled her expression as she entered the room, creating an uninterested air of boredom as she flipped through Whitaker's file with exaggerated movements, walking towards the man cuffed to the table. "So, Mr. Whitaker, is it?"

"Or do you prefer Jack?" Nick cut in.

The two detectives stared the man down and he shrugged, his eyes trained on the floor.

"Jack then," Olivia said, "Someone's got quite the rap sheet, huh?"

Nick turned a chair around and sat down on it backwards directly across from Jack while Olivia opted to circle behind him.

"What was it again?" Nick asked Benson. "Something about menacing?"

"And third-degree rape," Olivia said making sure to pop the p. "Can't forget that, can you Jack?"

Jack's hand twitched and his brow furrowed as he continued to glare at the floor. _Good. Making some progress._

Olivia leaned against the windowsill on the wall behind him while Nick changed tactics. "You've been here a while now, do you want anything? A drink, a snack?"

"No." The small word was the first word he'd spoken since he was brought in and Olivia smiled.

"Suit yourself," she said, her voice dripping with disdain and he moved suddenly, twisting around to glare at her. She looked at him in amusement as they locked eyes until he broke the connection, turning back around to glare at the tabletop.

Nick's eyes flicked up to Olivia and they communicated silently as only the best partners could. This guy was volatile and really didn't like her. Time for a new angle.

"What do you do for a living, Jack?" Amaro asked with mild interest.

He answered tersely, "I work at a restaurant."

"You got a girlfriend?" Benson asked, knowing it would rile the guy.

Jack cracked, and swiveled around again with a furious snarl, "What is this, some good-cop, bad-cop routine?! What the fuck do you people want from me?"

"You get angry a lot, don't you Jack," Benson continued as if he'd said nothing, watching his head follow her movements as she went to lean against the wall to the right of him.

"See, I get that Jack," Nick said with a friendly sympathetic tone. "I get mad too, you know? It all get's pent up, doesn't it, until it just bursts out?"

"Is that what happened with Julie? Did it all just... burst out?" Olivia asked, moving to sit against the desk. Jack pushed back away from Benson and she looked over to Amaro with a half-grin.

"We're not here to talk about Julie!" Jack said, agitated.

"Aren't we though?" Amaro asked. "You dislocated her fingers, Jack, you beat her face… said you didn't like it when she woke up. Is that why you switched to drugging them?"

Jack's eyes widened in alarm, anger gone as his head whipping between the two detectives. "Them?! Who's them? What are you talking about?" The detectives said nothing as recognition dawned and his face twisted with disgust, "Oh my god, this is about that Pinky guy isn't it? I never killed anyone! Or cut off their fucking pinkies!"

Olivia and Nick exchanged a quick glance that spoke volumes. Their guts were screaming now; this wasn't their guy. _Fucking hell._ They still had to rule him out though, had to see if they could get out why he ran.

Benson dropped her voice to a whisper, leaning forwards a bit, "Then why'd you run, Jack? Guilty conscious?"

Jack looked freaked out. "If I tell you if I can prove I'm not the, uh, Pinky guy, will you let me go?"

 _Well, that was easy._ "What do you have to show?" Amaro asked.

"If I can get my phone back, I have… photos." _This should be interesting._

"Photos? What kind of photos Jack?" Olivia questioned.

A stubborn look came over his features. "I'm not talking until I get my phone," he said, his jaw set and eyes hard.

The detectives looked at each other. They weren't going to get anything else out of him. "We'll see what we can do." Amaro climbed off the chair and Benson pushed off the desk before exiting the room, leaving behind Jack who was once again silent.

The second the door closed, Nick spit out a string of Spanish expletives that had Barba raising his eyebrows and the Captain frowning deeply, maybe unaware of the meaning but understanding the gist of his outburst.

"Sorry, sorry, I just… thought we might have had him," Nick apologized.

"Clearly you didn't," Barba said, causing the already agitated detective to bristle. "But he's obviously hiding something. Hopefully, the photos are probative of something illegal but if not we've got to move on."

"Yes, thank you Barba for your wise words," Nick spat out before Benson silenced him with a hand on his arm.

The captain eyed him with concern. "Amaro, either join Munch and man the phones or take 5. You need a breather before Emily comes in."

Nick just looked at the captain with defeat before turning and heading down the hall, ignoring Olivia who tried to catch his eye.

"He'll be…" Olivia trailed off.

"I know," Cragen said.

Barba cleared his throat awkwardly which seemed to spur Cragen into movement. "I'll need to update 1PP," he said with a scowl, "I'll have someone look at the guy's phone, can I have you running any leads we get from the tip line until Emily shows?" he asked Benson.

"Yeah Cap, I got it."

"Thanks, Liv," he turned to Barba who was currently glaring at Jack through the window, "I trust you'll be close?"

"Yes, my bosses want the bastard as much as you do. As much as I do," he added. "The DA's office is prepared to help in any way they can."

"Good," the captain said, "Well, I'll leave you to it then." He turned and walked down the hallway, leaving Barba and Benson alone to enjoy the rapidly growing tension between the two as they both recalled the night previous.

Olivia was the first to speak, "I didn't think I'd get to see you before tonight."

Barba couldn't stop himself. "Clearly or you wouldn't have worn those pants."

"Oh?" Olivia's eyebrow rose and her face felt warm as she grinned at Barba, who looked a little shocked by his own boldness. "And why wouldn't I have worn these pants?"

His apologies for his forwardness died in his mouth and he gave her a little half-smile that grew into the smug smirk she was used to as his eyes ran down the length of her body. "Why, detective, I'm sure you can guess what they do to me, and as consummate professionals, we both know these kinds of thoughts are not exactly appropriate for the workplace."

His words should have dissuaded her, reminded her of their very public setting at her place of work no less, but instead, Olivia felt braver as she stepped forward into his personal space.

"Barba, I'm shocked. Surely you're not trying to tell me what to wear now are you?"

"If I was, Olivia, you'd know."

Olivia's breath hitched and she felt a hot rush of reckless desire flow through her body. She could smell his cologne and fought the urge to lean forward and grab him by those stupid suspenders.

Their eyes locked, both a little surprised to find the other's filled with lust. As Olivia's eyes slowly wandered to his lips, Barba's traitorous cock throbbed and he reluctantly tore his eyes from her face and shifted, looking to see if there was anyone watching. Seeing no one, he turned to her, his voice a low growl. "Do you know where—?"

"Follow me."

She turned down the hallway and lead him back towards the bullpen. Rafael scrambled to follow, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible as he followed her through the chaos of ringing phones and unis. Nick was on a call with his back to them, thank god and they both nodded at a confused Munch who looked at Rafael with one eyebrow raised. He shrugged at the sergeant, hoping that would suffice as he pushed past. Olivia waited for him to catch up by the elevator pulling out her phone to send a quick text to Amaro letting him know she had to step out for a sec.

Barba kept his voice low as he stood next to her, "Where the hell are we going, Benson?"

She gave him a wolfish grin, "The roof, counselor."

The elevator doors opened with a ding and they waited as a couple of officers stepped out, nodding their heads in greeting to Benson who nodded back. As they entered the lift, Olivia wound up standing as far away from him as she could. When he looked at her quizzically, she blushed a little. "Wouldn't want to tempt fate," she said a little sheepishly.

He waited for the door to close and they were alone before speaking, a wide grin on his face, "You want to jump me don't you, Benson?"

She glared at him, hating how hot her cheeks were. "Shut up, Barba."

"Make me."

"Trust me, Rafael I will."

He groaned just as the doors opened and they got off on the top floor before Olivia stalked down a hallway, leaving Barba to have to catch up. She turned to face him, opening a door with a sign stating, ALARM DOOR DO NOT OPEN. He quirked his eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes, "Civilians," she complained. "Get over here, it's not actually alarmed."

That was all he needed to hear. She backed through the doorway their eyes locked as he followed. When he went to touch her, she dodged. "Not yet."

Barba let out a growl as she turned around and started heading up the small set of stairs leading to what had better be the last door. "I can feel you watching me," she said, looking over her shoulder, laughing a little as she caught him checking out her ass.

"Guilty as charged. You have a phenomenal ass, Benson."

Olivia pushed through the door onto the roof, the wind causing her hair to splay out, some of it wrapping around her neck, getting in her eyes. She positively growled as he closed the door behind him. "Don't! Call me Benson."

He reached forward and grabbed her by the waist causing her to gasp a little before she let him pivot her around. He backed her up against the brick wall next to the door with an intense look that caused her to bite her lip to hold back a moan. He dropped his hands from her waist only to brush the hair back from her face. The only thing connecting them was his hand holding her hair back. "Why not?" he asked, his voice rough.

"I—"

Rafael cut her off as he finally pressed the length of his body up against hers and she let out a surprised moan, relishing in the feeling of his hard cock against her hip.

His one hand fisted her hair, the other rested on her waist. She wrapped her arms around him, one hand coming up to cup his face, the other grabbing at his suit jacket. As their lips finally met, she let out a little whimper that was lost to the roar of the wind. Her body melted into his as his tongue dominated hers, his leg pushing between hers. She groaned against his lips. At the sound, he pulled back suddenly leaving her wanting, knees weak, and he admired the flush of her cheeks and the way her lips were swollen, parted slightly.

Their eyes locked, inches apart and the mood shifted as his expression grew soft. When he kissed her this time, it was gentle and sweet as he brought both his hands up to cup her face, holding her there like she was precious. She scratched her nails down his back and it was his turn to groan causing her to smile against his lips. He dropped one hand to grab hers and they laced their fingers together, reveling in the intimacy of the moment just as her phone went off. He pulled back as if electrocuted and she shivered at the sudden loss of his body heat as the wind whipped her hair around.

She looked down to see Amaro's name lighting up her phone and sighed. Olivia let it ring as she walked forward to Barba.

"This," she pointed at him, "is far from over."

Rafael let the tension in his shoulders fall, relieved by her words as she answered her cell.

"Amaro, what's up?"

* * *

Amaro's voice was calm and professional as he tried to get the woman off the phone and keep his frustration under wraps.

"Mhmm, thank you, ma'am, the NYPD will be sure to look into that… Uh, huh… Yes, I'll be sure to let them know, thank you."

Amaro finally hung up and leaned backward in his chair, rubbing at his temples. This was only his third call and he was already getting a headache. He let out a breath through his nose before looking down at his notepad to reread the one note he had. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. Only three calls and he already had a good chance of winning "Catch the Crazy" this time. He grimaced. _We really need a different name for that._

The second call he'd gotten was from a woman claiming that the FBI were kidnapping these women and implanting chips in their pinkies which is why they had to cut them off so they wouldn't find out the truth. When he'd asked what exactly "the truth" was, the woman had gotten paranoid and called him a government drone before hanging up.

Munch swiveled in his chair towards Nick. "You got anything?"

"Nothing useful," he said with regret, "But trust me," he smirked, "I'm breaking your winning streak today, Old Man," Nick joked.

"Sure kid, keep dreaming."

Nick grinned at him before the phone in front of him rang again. He turned back around and picked it up, keeping his notepad and a pen close by.

Before he could say the usual greeting, the man on the line spoke, his voice trembling. "My wife. I think… I think my wife's dead!"

Nick immediately leaned forward and grabbed his pen, his eyebrows knit together, "Excuse me, sir, who is this speaking?"

"John Cutler, please, you have to help me, I think—" he let out a strangled sob, "I think my wife is J-Jane Doe."


	5. Chapter 5

The silence in the car was deafening as the two detectives refused to look at each other, currently heading off to see if they could ID their Jane Doe. Olivia shifted in her seat as Amaro stared up at the traffic light.

"So." Nick's hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.

Olivia swallowed. "So what?"

"Are you going to tell me where the hell you went?" Amaro asked, sounding seriously annoyed at his partner.

Olivia felt a stab of guilt as she lied to him, "I told you," she said waspishly, "I had to step out for a sec."

Benson had allowed herself less than a minute to get herself put together, flattening her hair, and smoothing out wrinkles before high tailing it down to where Amaro had been pacing back and forth in the bullpen. She'd made Barba swear to wait 5 minutes before leaving the roof, promising to meet him later that night for drinks at a place of his choosing.

Amaro pressed on the gas a little too hard causing them to jerk forward. "Yeah, well, you can't just 'step out for a sec' Liv, you know that. What the hell has got you so," he searched for the word, "distracted?"

Olivia ignored the question, tucking her hair behind her ear nervously. "Spare me the lecture, Nick, I'm not the one the cap told to 'take 5.'"

Nick bristled and opened his mouth to continue when he took in her flushed cheeks and the way her hands shook a little. "Liv, are you okay?"

She shot him a sharp look. "I'm fine, Nick, drop it." She paused, her expression growing worried. "Is the captain mad?"

"Well, he's not happy."

"Dammit." She ran her hand down her face. As Olivia took in her partner's concerned expression, she caved. "I fucked up, Nick."

"Oh?" Now he looked really concerned.

"I should've been there."

"Yeah, I got that part." Amaro rolled his eyes. God, it was hard to get anything out of his partner.

Her voice was small. "I'm sorry."

Amaro's expression softened. "Don't apologize to me, it's the case I'm worried about here." She winced at that and felt the guilt overwhelm her again. "What's got you so twisted up Benson, and don't you dare say you're fine."

Olivia let out a shaky laugh and ran her hand through her hair nervously. "If I tell you, you can't tell anyone, Nick, I mean it."

Nick's eyes widened. "Okay now you're scaring me, Liv, what the hell did you do?"

Benson rolled her eyes, "Oh my god Nick, seriously. Nothing that bad."

He eyed her suspiciously before making up his mind. "Fine. I won't tell anyone. What'd you do?"

"I made out with Barba on the roof." It came out in a rush. She cringed heavily. _Why'd it have to sound so fucking middle school?_

There was a moment of silence as her words sunk in before the inevitable eruption. "You did what?!" Olivia had the distinct feeling that if they hadn't been stopped at another red light, he would've crashed the car.

Her face was bright red now. "We're going to have drinks later."

"Barba? Like BARBA, Barba?!"

 _Oh my god kill me._ "It just happened!"

"On the ROOF?" His eyes were almost comically wide as he gaped at her.

Okay, now she was annoyed. She crossed her arms and glared back at him. "Are you going to say anything new or just keep repeating what I said?"

"How? No, fuck that—Why?!"

"I don't know!" Olivia was affronted, her voice unusually shrill. "God, do you think we planned this?!"

"Hell if I know! Since when are you and Barba a thing?"

She covered her face with her hands. "Oh my god, I am so not talking about this right now."

"You can't just throw out that you and Barba fucked on the roof and then NOT talk about it!"

That got her attention. She dropped her hands and glared at him, "Hey, I did NOT say 'fucked,' Amaro, and you know it!"

"Sorry, sorry." He sounded apologetic. There was a pause before he spoke tentatively. "Is it… serious?"

She gave him a thin smile. "That's what the drinks are for. Don't know what he wants yet." Silence fell again before she let out a strained laugh, remembering the way her sergeant had immediately zeroed in on her windswept hair with a shrewd expression. "I think Munch knows."

Amaro let out a chuckle. "Oh, I bet he does. Nothing gets past the Old Man."

Olivia looked over at him with a strange look on her face. "Hey, Nick. Thank you."

"For what?" he sounded confused.

"For not freaking out."

"Oh, trust me, I'm freaking out," he said, not without humor, "But in all seriousness, Liv, I've got your back. Even if it's Barba." He spat the lawyer's name as if the very word brought a sour taste to his tongue and she rolled her eyes before smiling at him gratefully. He returned the smile before it faded to worry. "It's just… we need you on this case Liv. All of you."

Olivia grimaced. "I know."

His voice became teasing, "I know how hard it must be," he winked while she groaned, "but try not to let him distract you too much."

"Noted, Nick," she snarked, "Noted."

* * *

Olivia felt unusually somber even considering the circumstances, as she stood before Jane Doe's body in the medical examiner's office. "What can you tell us, Melinda?" she asked.

Dr. Warner pulled one of her gloves off with a sigh, grabbing a clipboard from behind her. "Well, the victim's a Caucasian female, late 30s, early 40s, no tattoos or any other identifying marks other than a birthmark on her hip. Nothing popped up when we ran her prints and I was waiting to hear back about her dental records but if the husband can ID her, that won't be a problem."

"It'll be good to verify anyways," Amaro added, and Dr. Warner nodded.

She walked over to the table and used her gloved hand to pull the sheet forward, exposing Jane Doe's face. Even devoid of blood, it was brutal. "As you can see, the bastard beat the hell out of her. I'm listing the probable cause of death as intracerebral hemorrhage caused by head trauma—that's bleeding of the brain," she added seeing Amaro's confused face. "She basically was hit one too many times and had a massive stroke. I can't be entirely certain, but it's likely her fractured skull occurred post-mortem. From the extent of the damage, it's almost certain she suffered several if not numerous blows to the head which also shattered her nasal bone and fractured both orbital sockets." She paused shaking her head, "It was the definition of overkill, she had no chance of survival."

Benson nodded, clearly deep in thought before gesturing toward the victim's right hand. "And the pinky?"

"Well, the ligaments and skin surrounding the bone were obviously torn, and from the skin tissue, it's clear that the finger was ripped out of its socket while Jane Doe was alive. Possibly even conscious."

 _Fuck._ "Are you sure?" Benson looked disturbed as she absentmindedly rubbed at her right pinky.

Dr. Warner's face was dark as she nodded. "Tearing live tissue always causes a vital response noticeably different from tearing dead tissue. I'm sure, detective."

"What about the other pinky?" Amaro questioned, "Any significance to the break?"

"Now that you mention it, if you look there's pattern imprinted in the skin," she pulled back the sheet so the detectives could see the lines grooved into the skin, "it's likely the perp gripped her pinky using some sort of ridged tool like pliers before snapping it."

Olivia's eyebrows shot up. "Well that's definitely new," she said. "Might help us narrow down that list Amanda made."

Her partner nodded before turning to Dr. Warner. "Any signs of sexual assault?" Amaro asked, hating that he already knew the answer.

Melinda nodded, "Yes, there was clear evidence of vaginal bruising and tearing all consistent with rape. I found traces of lubricant but no DNA, no fibers. We ran her tox screen and it came back positive for ketamine."

"Just like the others," Benson mused.

Melinda pulled the sheet back over Jane Doe and turned to the detectives. "It may interest you to know that while we found no DNA on our Jane Doe, we did find pollen and dirt in the victim's hair," she added, causing both detectives to perk up. "I've sent it up to the lab for processing, we should get the results either late today or early tomorrow. That should help you narrow down a location."

Just then, Amaro's phone started to ring, silencing them before either of the detectives could express their relief at the news.

"It's the husband," Amaro said before picking up.

"Let's head out," Benson said quietly while Melinda readied herself for the ID.

Amaro nodded, before letting Mr. Cutler know they would meet him out in the lobby.

Moments like these were easily the worst part of their job. They braced themselves as a short, balding man with a kind face that was currently twisted with dread and panic headed over to the two of them.

"Mr. Cutler, Detective Nick Amaro." Nick held out his hand to the man who shook it, impatiently.

"Can't honestly say it's nice to meet you," he said anxiously before turning to Benson. "And you are?"

"I'm Detective Olivia Benson." Olivia stuck her hand out as well and they shook hands quickly before the man faced her partner.

"How does this work?"

"Well, right now the Medical Examiner is getting prepared for the ID. In the meantime, would it be alright if we ask you a couple of questions?"

Mr. Cutler waved his hand like he was swatting at flies, "Whatever, I don't care. I just need to know if that's my wife who's—" he choked. "Who's dead."

Olivia nodded with a sympathetic expression, "I understand that this must be difficult, Mr. Cutler. When was the last time you heard from your wife?"

The man started wringing his hands anxiously, "I've been away at a business conference for the last couple of days, maybe if I had been here…" Cutler's face crumpled before he sucked in a breath and continued. "Susie, my wife, well, she can be forgetful, so I just thought she might have lost her phone when I didn't hear from her. But when her friend Anne called after she missed their brunch, she said she hadn't seen her since they went out for drinks two days ago. Susie would never miss brunch with Anne, **never**! I came back as fast as I could."

"Anne…?" Amaro asked.

"Annabel Thrush, Susie and her have been friends for years."

Olivia couldn't help feeling a little skeptical, "Forgive me for asking, but what lead you believe your wife is dead?"

The man gave her a withering glare. "I know my wife, detective. Even if she lost her phone, she would've found some way to contact me or Anne by now." His face filled with worry again. "When I saw the news, I knew. She looks just like the other woman!" The detectives exchanged a look, the " _What the hell?_ " evident in their expressions. Oblivious, Cutler continued. "She's too trusting, she always stays back when the girls go out for drinks, she's a people watcher. Says it inspires her. Oh, Susie..."

"Excuse me, what did you say about the news?" Amaro asked with apprehension.

"They had pictures? Of one the victims?" he said with confusion.

 _How the hell did they miss that?_ "Well, this is news to us, if you'll excuse me," Benson said, masking her annoyance.

"Oh, uh sure."

As Olivia stepped away to call the Captain about this little bit of news, Amaro led Mr. Cutler towards the covered window where Dr. Warner would be revealing Jane Doe. They stood in anxious silence until Melinda's voice crackled over the sound system as she pushed the curtains aside. "Brace yourself, there's significant damage to her face."

As she pulled back the sheet, Mr. Cutler's hand rose to cover his mouth, and his knees buckled while he clutched at Amaro's arm to stay upright. His voice was shaky as he tore his eyes from her beaten face. "I-I don't know. Susie has a birthmark," he said desperately. "It's on her hip, please tell me…"

Amaro leaned forward to press a button, speaking into the little mic, "Mr. Cutler says his wife has a birthmark on her hip. Could you…?"

Melinda lifted the sheet once more to reveal it to the man, who let out a sob, "Susie—No, no! That's my Susie! My Susie!"

Cutler dissolved into tears still clutching Amaro's arm as the detective watched the man's grief with his own pang of sorrow and pity. He felt an arm on his shoulder and turned his head to see Benson, her face also somber as she leaned in to quietly let him know that Emily was on the way to the precinct.

Amaro detached the man from his arm with patience and felt a twinge of guilt as Cutler swayed there, looking like he'd been punched in the gut. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Mr. Cutler. I understand that this will be hard to go through, but we will catch the man who hurt your wife." Cutler's expression remained unchanged as he stared at them with unshed tears and a horribly numb expression. Amaro stepped forward, pulling out one of the cards he always kept on him. "I'm going to give you my card, we're hoping you would be open to answering some more questions at a later time."

"Is there anyone you want me to call for you?" Benson asked softly.

Mr. Cutler shook his head slowly, "I'm… I'm going to go."

"Do you have someone to drive you?" Amaro asked, "I'm not sure you should be driving right now."

The man considered his words, giving a little nod before he started to babble as he walked down the hall, "I can get a ride, come back for the rental later, I need to call Anne, and Louis needs to know, I'm sure, and then there are the bags…"

The two detectives watched the man's dreamlike movements with pity before Olivia spoke. "We gotta get back soon for the interview with Emily but I called the captain. He's furious. Apparently, the press caught wind of our third vic and leaked her photo. The hospital had to move her to a private room."

"Fucking vultures," Nick scowled.

Olivia nodded with a dark expression. "Well, as much as I hate it, it did help us ID our Jane Doe," she said grudgingly.

"And now we know at least two of our vics were at bars," Amaro added, "We'll have to talk to this Annabel Thrush, see if she knows more."

"Yes and hopefully Emily will have something to back this up. If so we may have just found our link."

* * *

Rafael was having the hardest time picking a place to get drinks with Olivia. He had no idea what she was expecting and he didn't want to be too close to either of their places of work for obvious reasons, which severely limited his options seeing as he didn't want to go somewhere he hadn't been before.

God, he was nervous. Last night he had gone home still reeling from their heated exchange, absolutely astonished that he'd actually had the balls to go through with asking her out in the first place. After he'd finished his meeting, he'd thought about the coffee cup situation and came to the surprising realization that he wanted more. He wanted to get to know her, to be the person she looked to. Olivia Benson, he'd found, had somehow managed to worm her way into his thoughts and feelings and he… didn't mind. For some reason.

He had planned on waiting a week or more before asking her out, maybe giving some hints of his feelings here and there, testing the waters if you will, but then she'd shown up in that outfit. All self-control had gone out the window the second he'd looked at her.

And then this morning happened.

He had never wanted someone more. Watching that interrogation had been torture; seeing her in her element, so confident and sure had been such a turn on. He still couldn't believe they'd done that. Making out on the roof like a couple of high schoolers? What were they thinking?!

Rafael was going to make up for that tonight. She deserved more than a heat-of-the-moment situation. At least, if that's what she wanted.

He grimaced at the thought. _Fuckk. What if she regretted it already?_ Or didn't want something serious, like he did?

Rafael ran his hands down his face with a groan before jumping as someone cleared their throat.

"Oh! Carmen, sorry I, uh, didn't see you there," he said with a grimace.

"I did knock, Mr. Barba," she said in an apologetic tone, "I was going to ask if you wanted me to grab you something for lunch but I can see you're, uh, preoccupied," she said with a decidedly nosy tone of voice.

"I can see you're dying to ask, go ahead," he said with an eye roll.

"All of this," she said gesturing at him, "would have nothing to do with Detective Benson showing up unexpectedly yesterday would it?"

"'All of this?'" he repeated with one eyebrow raised, crossing his arms, "Whatever could you mean?"

Carmen gave him a look, "You're distracted Barba and literally groaning with, what, worry? And I know that's your favorite suit."

"You are far too observant for your own good," he said with a huff, still not confirming or denying anything.

"Detective Benson did leave looking pretty excited last night… And flustered," she added with a smirk, noting the way the Barba had gone unnaturally still.

"Did she?" he mused. "Fine, you caught me. I, uh, asked her out."

"I knew it!" Carmen squealed as Barba scowled at her, his cheeks a little pink.

"You better keep quiet about this Carmen," he warned, face still flushed, "I do not need the DA getting involved in something that might not even happen, okay?"

"Oh, something will happen, Barba," Carmen said knowingly.

"Mhmm, sure," Rafael said, a little skeptical.

"Where are taking her then? And when?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but we're getting drinks tonight. I still haven't picked a place yet, though," he added.

"Don't worry about that. We'll come up with something."

"Oh, **we** will, will we?" he said, looking a little irritated at her enthusiasm. She shot him a sharp look. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just… nervous."

"Don't be. Now, come on, tell me what you're thinking and we'll find a place."

Rafael felt overwhelming gratitude for his secretary as she grabbed a chair and swung it over, ready to help. With her help, tonight would go well. He could feel it in his gut.


	6. Chapter 6

Olivia felt incredibly drained as she walked Emily to the elevator but didn't show it as she pressed the button and faced her. Emily was staring at the ground, her hands shoved in her sweatshirt pockets.

"Do I really have to stay here?" she asked. "I took a week off of work for this trip, detective."

"You just gotta stay in the state," Benson said apologetically, "With this guy still out there, we'll need you close by if we need you to ID anyone." She paused and the woman sighed. "I'm sorry, but as I told you earlier," Olivia said, cocking her head to catch her eyes, "If you need anything, we're just a call away, alright? Do you still have my card? And Detective Amaro's?"

Emily nodded, exhaustion sapping the life out of her features. "Yeah. I'm sorry I couldn't remember much more," she said softly.

Re-interviewing Emily had been an arduous task. While she did remember more than before, everything was still in bits and pieces, flashes of color or sound or taste that Emily was still trying to make sense of. It had taken about 3 hours of grueling work and several breaks before she was confident that that was all she could give them.

"Don't apologize," Benson said shaking her head as the elevator doors opened. "It's not your fault."

Emily smiled weakly at her as she stepped into the elevator, "Still. Bye Detective."

"Take care of yourself."

As the elevator doors closed, Benson turned and started when she found her partner leaning on the wall behind her.

"You've got quiet feet, Amaro."

He pointed at himself, "Detective." Benson rolled her eyes at him as they walked toward their desks which had all been shoved in the corner to make room for the tip line set up. "Do you even see it?" he asked her suddenly.

"See what?" she said belligerently.

"Watching you two interact… I mean, you two could've been sisters, Liv, that's how similar you look. That doesn't freak you out a little?"

She looked at him as if he'd grown an extra head. "Okay first of all, Amaro, she's like what 5'3"? Also, her face looks nothing like mine! What the hell are you trying to imply here?"

Amaro held up his hands, "Nothing, just an observation I guess."

She narrowed her eyes at him, hating the little twinge of unease she felt. "Don't you Munch out on me here, Amaro. He's plenty paranoid enough for the rest of us."

Speak of the devil. "'Munch out?'" the sergeant gaped, as he headed towards their corner, "That's a new one."

"Don't you have some phone calls to get to," Amaro said waspishly.

Before Munch could answer, he caught the sight of Fin and Rollins weaving through the still-crowded bullpen bringing apprehension along with them as the detectives took in their stormy expressions. The feeling only intensified as they ignored their questioning looks. Benson was the first to speak. "Bad news?"

Fin's face was stony as he dropped his keys on his desk with a clatter. "Well, we only managed to get four of the six finger-breaking freaks cleared and it only took what? 18 hours, counting our bastard friend Whitaker?"

Rollins rubbed her temples as spoke, "18 sounds about right." She turned to Benson and Amaro, "Those photos Jack told you about, by the way, turned out to be of his victim. Looks like Jack's been stalking her for the last couple of months," Rollins said, her voice tight with irritation. "Lucky for us, Whitaker didn't like the idea of a murder rap so we got a full signed confession in under 40 minutes."

Fin sunk into his chair, "Still doesn't help us with our pinky perv dude."

"I'm aware, Fin," Rollins said nastily.

Amaro quickly jumped in before Fin could respond.

"You said you only got four of the six on the list?" The two detectives nodded. "Well, we have something that may help with that. When we IDd Susan Cutler, Melinda briefed us and showed us a ridged pattern imprinted in the skin of our vic's broken pinky. Our perp used a tool like pliers or something to break her finger."

Fin's grumpy expression was replaced with one of concentration as he shot up in his chair and searched through the files on his desk with a purpose, quickly locating the list he was looking for. As he flipped through it, he let out a groan when he found what he was looking for. Or rather, didn't. "Neither one of these guys broke their vic's fingers with any tools. In fact, none of the guys on our list did."

"I guess you were right then, Fin," Benson said referring to his prediction from earlier that morning, shaking her head, "Our perp has never been caught."

Fin tossed the file back on his desk, "Hey, I'm not happy about it."

"I know, I know," Benson said before giving him a little half-grin. "This might cheer you up though. We may have found the link between our vics. It's shaky," she cautioned, "but gives us something to start with."

The mood in the room immediately elevated, "Go on then, what'd you find out?" Rollins asked eagerly.

"When we talked to the husband who got us an ID on our Jane Doe, he said his wife was last seen in a bar by her close friend Annabel Thrush," Benson explained.

"Hold on a sec, the first vic, Katherine, the last thing she remembered was going to a bar!" Rollins interrupted excitedly.

"Exactly!" Benson exclaimed, "Our canvas never found out which bar, unfortunately, we were more focused on the rental car from the video at the time, but either way, that's two out of four vics last placed at bars."

"That's a start but what about the others then?" Munch asked skeptically.

"That's the thing," Amaro said, "Benson and I just re-interviewed our second vic and she still doesn't remember going to a bar. Our canvas at the time pulled up nothing, too."

"And our third vic," Olivia pressed on, "is in a coma so we can't really ask her. We never canvased so I went through my notes again; apparently she and her husband were avoiding alcohol so we saw no reason to. He'd gotten into a car crash recently and couldn't mix alcohol with his pain meds."

"Just because her husband couldn't drink doesn't mean she didn't stop at a bar that night," Fin retorted.

"That's what I'm thinking," Nick replied. "Like Olivia said, it's shaky but, c'mon, it's a hell of a lot more than we had before. I say we run with it, check in with this Annabel person, check the bar they went to, and recanvas any other bars in the area," Amaro said, turning away from them to check as he asked, "Is the cap in his office?"

"No, he's at 1PP. The chief's on his ass about this case and about how the hell the press managed to get a photo of a rape victim in a hospital," Munch explained, wincing sympathetically for his captain. "He's left me in charge till he gets back. He told me the rest of you can consider yourselves on call for the night; hopefully, we won't be seeing you until tomorrow." Munch felt Nick's annoyance before he even opened his mouth. "Now Amaro, before you go off about this new lead, unless it's life or death, it's too late to talk to the friend now and you need more manpower to do a canvas. We'll start this on it tomorrow and I'll update the captain when he gets back. For now, go home, get some rest."

Nick looked put out but moved to grab his things along with the rest of them. "We'll get him, Nick," Olivia said and he shrugged, avoiding her gaze. Sensing this was not the time, she chose not to press him before saying her goodbyes. As the others bid her goodnight, Nick gave her a knowing look and mouthed "Good luck" causing her to blush lightly. In her effort to school her expression, she missed the shrewd look on her sergeant's face.

As Olivia headed off to the parking lot, she felt her excitement for tonight's date grow before her mind inevitably wandered to the conversation she had with Amaro. _Is the captain mad? Well, he's definitely not happy._ She cringed as her stomach twisted. It looked like she dodged a bullet with the captain off at 1PP.

Once she was safely in her car, she pulled out her phone to call Barba, reflecting on how much she was coming to regret her uncharacteristic impulsivity. As she dialed Barba's number, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she decided they would definitely have to talk boundaries tonight… If he wanted something serious in the first place.

"Barba speaking."

Despite the formality of his words, Olivia could hear the smile in his voice and her face broke into a grin of her own at his greeting. _Fuck, I've got it bad._

"Hello to you too," she joked. "You in your office?" she guessed.

"For now," he snarked, "You at the precinct?"

"For now," she repeated teasingly, "I just got off though."

"Good. I've had a very nosy secretary helping me plan our evening," Olivia could hear a faint "Hey!" that sounded like Carmen and she laughed.

"Give Carmen my thanks," she said, "Now what do you have planned for us?"

"First off, do you think you'll be called in tonight?"

"Well, I'm on call until morning," Olivia explained, "but unless all hell breaks loose, I'm yours."

"Perfect," he said, his voice low and suggestive, making Olivia bite her lip with pleasure. "I'll send you the address and meet you there, say 10:00?"

"Do I need to bring anything?" Olivia asked, checking her watch. She had an hour to get ready and make her way over to wherever they were going.

"Just yourself," he responded. His voice became soft, "Thank you for agreeing to come tonight."

Olivia could feel her cheeks getting warm. "Of course, Rafael. I'll see you soon."

"See you then, Olivia."

* * *

Rafael was starting to get a little nervous as he sat at the bar checking his watch. _10:09..._ He had just finished compulsively rereading his texts, just to be sure that he'd sent the right address, as he heard the jingle of the door opening over the sound of the soft music and other patrons. He whipped his head over to the door at the noise and the tension in his shoulders melted away as he watched Olivia walk into the bar in a gorgeous V-neck black dress that ended just above the knee and hugged her in all the right places.

When he caught Olivia's eye, her face broke into a wide smile that made her face light up and he grinned back as she made her way over.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," she said as she sat on the stool next to him.

He waved her apology away, "Don't be." His face softened as they locked eyes, "You look beautiful, Olivia."

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, blushing hard. "Thank you," she said softly. "You're not looking too bad yourself, counselor."

"Don't call me that, not tonight," he said, bringing his hand up to cover hers on the counter.

She opened her mouth to speak just as the bartender came over and they quickly ordered Barba's favorite single malt scotch and a new merlot Olivia hadn't tried, before turning toward each other.

"I was—" "You were—" Their voices overlapped each other.

"You go first," Rafael said with a crooked grin.

"I just have to get it out there now," she said in a rush, "I don't know where this is going but that can NOT happen again at work!"

Rafael nodded profusely, "Agreed. 100%." He cocked his head at her while he pointedly flicked his eyes to her lips, "Doesn't mean I didn't very much enjoy it though."

She leaned forward to plant her hand on his thigh with a smirk, "I'm not complaining."

His cocky smile faded a little and she leaned back, unsure of herself. "What do you want from this, Olivia?" he said softly.

She bit her lip, looking away a bit. "I… I was looking for more than just a one-time thing?" she said, her voice lilting at the end, and she mentally cringed at how hesitant she sounded.

Rafael let out a big breath he didn't realize he was holding. "¡Oh, gracias a Dios! Me too, Liv." He flushed at his enthusiastic reaction and grimaced playfully, adopting what she only describe as a 'dude voice,' "I mean, yeah that's cool I guess."

Olivia laughed hard, incredibly relieved. "Glad we're on the same page here," she took a sip of her merlot and glanced around the small bar, "So… Carmen knows, huh?"

"As I told her, she's far too observant for her own good. She saw right through me. Didn't help that you showed up in my office in that **get-up** last night!" he griped.

"Get-up?! Rafael, they're called workout clothes!" she exclaimed, aghast.

"Call it what you will, Benson, it was hot," he said with a smirk, lifting his glass to sip at his scotch.

She poked him in the chest, "If you keep calling me 'Benson' while you're flirting with me, I won't be able to work with you, Barba!"

"Ah, so THAT'S what you were trying to say on the roof," Rafael joked, putting his glass down to hold his hands up in surrender at her expression, "I'll desist as long as you refrain from calling me 'counselor.' And, you know what, bench 'Barba' while you're at it, I wouldn't want to—what was it you said—ah yes, 'tempt fate' after all."

"Deal," she said with a curt nod, choosing to ignore the little jab at her behavior during the ride up to the roof.

"So," he said awkwardly, "Did anyone… comment? On your absence?"

"Well, Amaro almost crashed the car when I told him we made out on the roof," she quirked with a little grin.

"Surprising restraint," he joked. "Does anyone else…?"

"I think Munch guessed," she said, "But I'm not sure. He's a good guy, he'll keep quiet."

"Good."

The couple took a second to sip at their drinks, contemplating the newness of their situation.

"I want to apologize," Rafael said suddenly, putting his glass down a little harder than he meant to.

"Oh?"

"Yes, you deserved better than that," he explained. Seeing her confused expression, he leaned forward a bit. "You deserved a better first than a rushed exchange on the roof of the precinct." She grabbed his hand in understanding. "If it's okay," he said tentatively, "I'd like to fix that?"

Olivia nodded, biting her lip, and they locked eyes, his green eyes intense and full of heat before he leaned in slowly. She closed the gap, unable to wait any longer and he kissed her slowly and softly this time, effectively silencing all coherent thought. She couldn't help the small moan from escaping her throat when he sucked on her bottom lip and her hand moved to grip his bicep. All she could taste was smoky scotch as their lips parted, deepening the kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, they stayed silent, just staring at each other, both not quite ready to end the moment.

The jingle of the door opening shook Rafael out of it and he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "Now that's better."

She gave a small laugh and brought her hand up to cup his face. "Thank you, Rafael," she said softly.

"Oh shush, Liv," he teased before crinkling his nose and shaking his head. "Nope, I much prefer using 'Benson' when I'm telling you to shut up," he complained.

That drew a bark of laughter from her that had Rafael joining in, feeling more hopeful than he had in ages. It was then he realized how wrong he'd been; if she would be the death of him, so be it. At least he'd die a happy man.

* * *

Olivia couldn't remember the last time she'd been so happy, so **relaxed** on a first date as she hugged herself in the back of the cab, feeling a little tipsy.

After he'd caught her stifling her fourth yawn in a row, they grudgingly decided to call it a night which inevitably lead to a rather heated argument over who would cover tonight's bill (which Rafael won only by the promise of a second date). In the end, he'd paid while she grumbled, tipping the bartender generously as he'd stolen glances at Olivia in what he'd called " that fucking amazing dress." Always the detective, she'd caught him of course, and had raised her eyebrows at him with a half-grin while he gave her a shameless smirk in return.

As she fought to stay awake, she thought back on his teasing words when she'd suggested they share a cab, still a little disappointed they'd been sober enough—fine, that Rafael had been sober enough—to scrap that intriguing idea.

"Back foul temptress!" he had joked, gently swatting her hand away. "As much as I'd love to, there is only one way that would end hermosa, and as alluring as that sounds," she'd smirked at that, "we're both a little tipsy; tonight is not the night." She could only agree. Tonight is not the night.

She almost missed it as the cab parked, the sound of the driver clearing his throat pulling her out of her thoughts. She shook her head before tipping the driver, finally hauling herself up to her apartment. Olivia was so exhausted she barely managed to wriggle out of her dress and into her stretched out police academy shirt before she passed out on top of her sheets, still basking in the glow Rafael Barba had brought to her.

Unfortunately, however, reality came crashing down as Benson woke up from a dead sleep to her cell ringing, seemingly moments after she'd fallen asleep. _Ughh… What time is it?_ She answered her phone with a groggy "Benson" dreading whatever news could be coming to her at such an early—Or was it late?—hour.

Amaro's voice sounded strained and unhappy on the other line as she checked her watch. _4:16 am? Ugh_. "Sorry to wake you Liv but we've got another one."

That woke her up quickly. "No, fuck, already?!"

He gave a heavy sigh, "Yep. Another vic, dumped in Central Park this time."

She sat up in bed, pushing her hair back as she shook any remaining fogginess away. "I'll be right there, are you there now?"

"No, but I'm driving, I'll be there soon. Cap wants you to meet me. I'll send you the location." Olivia knew her partner and the level of barely contained frustration in his voice worried her.

"Thanks, Amaro. I'll see you soon," she paused. "We'll get him," Olivia reminded him, "it's just a matter of time."

"I know," he sounded dejected as he hung up, and Olivia groaned and ran her hand down her face. This bastard wouldn't get away with it. Not this time.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back at college now and taking way too many classes, so updates will start to become less regular. That said, I have the next several chapters planned out in detail so worry not.
> 
> Less Barson this chapter but I try to make up for it with intrigue and some Olivia inner turmoil. She's getting nervous... Are you? Mwahaha! Enjoy!

The sun was starting to creep up over the horizon, emitting a soft orange glow that soon coated the city. Olivia couldn't bring herself to enjoy it as she rounded the bend in the path; normally the early morning light only added to the beauty of Central Park but nothing could make this picture pretty.

Neon yellow police tape encircled the mulchy area as uniformed cops placed police barriers along the popular jogging path, already having to direct civilians away despite the early hour. The bend in the road hid the spectacle from curious eyes but the CSU van parked alongside the path only piqued their interest as people craned their necks to sneak a peak.

Olivia flashed her badge to some uni's as she ducked under the police tape searching for her partner. CSU was crawling over the crime scene so it took her a moment to spot him before she jogged over and he greeted her with a somber nod. With dread, the detectives made their way over to the star of the gruesome scene.

The body was out in the open this time, her limbs spread out wide for the world to see as she laid there lifeless in the mulch and dirt. If Susie Cutler's face was bad, then this woman's face was hell, made even more grotesque by the orange light of morning spilling onto the bloody mess where her features should be. Olivia felt a horrible sense of deja vu as she knelt down to examine the woman's hands.

"Again, one pinky ripped out, the other broken," she said grimly to her partner. "But her face…" Benson shook her head, "Way more rage this time."

Nick scanned the area around them, "He couldn't have picked a better spot," he commented, "It's sheltered from view but along a popular path during the day... He's getting bolder now, he wants people to notice him."

Benson nodded, looking contemplative, "He clearly staged the body for maximum effect," Benson added. She stood back up to search the ground around the body before she started, catching sight of something odd and distinctly different from their other crime scenes. "Woah, wait, Nick come here! She's got something written on her arms!"

He was there in an instant, pausing her before she could move the arms to wave a CSU guy holding a camera over. "You've taken photos of the body?" he asked him impatiently.

"Yes sir," he nodded. The guy was young and clearly eager to please which grated on Nick's nerves.

Amaro rolled his eyes. "Come here then."

He nodded to Liv who had taken the opportunity to pull on some gloves and she twisted one arm so it was no longer facing palm up before doing the same to the other revealing the words " **ME: 5** " and " **NYPD: 0** " written across the tops of her forearms.

The CSU guy immediately starting snapping pictures while Olivia stood up crossing her arms next to her partner. "Bastard," she spat out. "If you're going to taunt the NYPD, at least **try** to be original," she seethed, her face thunderous.

"I'm not surprised he went with 'me' instead of 'P.P.,'" Nick said dryly, "Guess he didn't like 'Pinky Pervert'."

If Benson weren't so pissed she would've snorted. "He got awfully cocky with this one, here's hoping he made a mistake."

Her partner knelt down to look at her hands more closely, "He just might've. If I'm not mistaken, there's some blood under her fingernails," he said, hope creeping into his voice.

"Here's hoping it's the perps and not her own," Benson said, clearly feeling more cynical than her partner.

He ignored her remark. "Between that and the pollen and dirt, we might actually get the bastard," Nick said.

Benson nodded distantly, her eyebrows furrowed as she stared down at the body with a curious expression. "In the meantime, we've got another Jane Doe…"

"And a lead, Liv," he reminded her.

"Yes. And a lead."

* * *

Amaro was becoming increasingly concerned as he watched his partner brooding next to him; she probably didn't realize she was muttering to herself but judging from the increasing vulgarity of her swears, she was starting to spiral. He frowned. It wasn't like her to take a taunt like that so personally.

Olivia wasn't sure if it was the lack of sleep or not, but she just couldn't get the sight of Jane Doe's forearms out of her mind and it was fucking pissing her off. _Taunting, perverted, fucking bastard!_ Her anger was sharp and satisfying but dampened, of course, by the overwhelming guilt bubbling away in her gut. All she could think was that while she was flirting and laughing last night, Jane Doe was being tortured and raped. As some of her anger faded, she felt that same flicker of unease she'd been feeling ever since she saw Jane Doe naked and faceless. Without any facial features, it was easy for her to picture her own instead, noticing the similarities in her body type and hair. A part of her blamed Amaro for the unnerving intrusive thought; it never would've come to mind if he hadn't been talking about her resemblance to Emily yesterday and she hated it. She hated that, she hated the nervous squirm in her stomach, and she hated this fucking case. _NYPD:0 for now you fucking dickhead!_

Her fierce scowl vanished as she startled, pulled her from disturbing thoughts by the sounds of Amaro clearing his throat.

"So..." Amaro said, glancing at his partner as he drove, "How was the date?"

Olivia's head swiveled over to eye him suspiciously, searching for any sign of mockery. He seemed sincere. "It went well," she said evasively as she crossed her arms, shooting him a look clearly meant to stave him off.

He, of course, ignored it. "Was it good enough for a second?"

Olivia glowered at his nosiness, "Why do you always wait until I'm trapped in a car with you to ask this shit?"

"Cause otherwise you'd walk away," he said with a crooked grin, "Now spill, Benson."

"You're such an ass, Amaro!" When his grin widened she groaned, "Ugh, fine." At least it'd take her mind off that fucking crime scene. "Ask away."

"Do I really gotta ask, Liv, why can't you just tell me?" he complained.

"Hey, if you wanna know you gotta work for it!" she retorted.

"That's fair." He paused. "Okay then, what I said before. Was it good enough for a second?"

The corners of her lips twitched upwards, "It was the only way he could get me to agree to him paying for our drinks."

Amaro relaxed some at her hint of a smile, "Ah, a gentleman," he teased, causing her to roll her eyes as her smile strengthened. "You said you weren't sure what he wanted... Are you guys...?"

She stared resolutely out the front window, avoiding his curious gaze, "We're on the same page."

It was his turn to roll his eyes, "Fine, I'll spell it out for you. Are you two dating or what?"

"Yep."

"'Yep?' That's it? God, you're so annoying!"

She gave him a wicked grin, "And you suck at being nosy!"

 _Oh really?_ His eyes narrowed, "Did you two fuck?"

She gaped at him, immediately flushing red. "OH my god!"

He gave her a smug smile, "That nosy enough for you?"

"I—!" Her jaw was slack, "I—Yeah!"

"'Yeah' as in nosy enough or 'yeah' you two did fuck?" Nick shot at his stunned partner, enjoying her flustered state while secretly praying she wouldn't get into it. He'd only said it to get a reaction from her, to get her out of her head.

Olivia recovered quickly, giving him a sharp look. "We did NOT 'fuck,'" she retorted, her disdain at his word choice clear. "You nosy bastard. We had a very nice evening of conversation that ended with us in different cabs."

His grin was triumphant. "I knew I could get you to spill!"

"Ah, shut up," she said, punching him lightly in the shoulder unable to keep the scowl on her face. He gave an exaggerated "Oof!" that had her smiling again, feeling lighter than she had all morning.

"Thanks, Nick," she said, suddenly serious as it hit her. He gave her a questioning look. "I know what you did there," she elaborated, "Getting me out of my head and all."

He glanced at her sheepishly, "What gave it away?"

"Oh please! You'd never voluntarily talk about Barba unless you had another reason for it. Let alone ask THAT." She paused. "What gave me away? Other than my face, I'm sure," she joked.

"Forget your face!" he exclaimed, "If I said half the things you were muttering, Liv, my mamí would wash my mouth with soap!" Olivia let out a surprised laugh, feeling a rush of affection for her attentive partner. She was lucky. He wasn't half bad really.

* * *

The 20-something-year-old man examined each photo with a clinical eye as Benson swiped the screen of her iPad. As they reached the end of the array, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his eyes flicking from the iPad to her face. "I don't recognize any of these women, detective, I'm sorry," he said apologetically.

"That's alright," she said, unable to keep a hint of dejection out of her voice as she opened another photo array. "How about these women? Do you recognize any of them?"

The bartender, Sal according to his nametag, shook his head at the first and second photos before his face lit up. "That's Susie!" Olivia's heart leaped at the successful ID. "Lovely lady, real friendly," Sal continued on, "She likes to come in with her friends sometimes, but they always leave before her. Always has an interesting story to tell." He paused, curiosity getting the best of him, "Hey, wait, is she okay?"

She brushed aside the question with one of her own, gesturing at Amaro to come over from where he was examining the bar's security camera system. "When did you last see her?"

As Nick walked up, Sal answered nervously. "Not too long ago, she came in the other night, um," he squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to recall the details, "Yeah, I remember now. She came in 3 nights ago, we had an unplanned margarita night cause my boss ordered too much tequila."

"And Susie?" Amaro prompted impatiently.

"Oh yeah, sorry," he grimaced, "She must've come in around the after-dinner rush, uh she stayed later than usual chatting it up with this guy. Left with him, now that I think of it."

The detectives exchanged significant looks before Benson pressed him for more details. "Did she seem to know the guy? Have you seen him before?"

"Well, I've never seen him before, but I think Susie knew him?" he guessed, "Or at least he knew her. Called her by name."

Amaro was starting to get excited, "Could you hear what they were talking about?"

Sal shook his head, "Not really... I remember he had her guessing where she knew him from, it was kinda cute I guess and she didn't seem to mind."

Olivia's eyebrows were knit in concentration, "And you said they left together?"

"Yeah, the guy threw a couple of bills down and they walked out," Sal noted Amaro's annoyed frown with guilt, "She seemed fine when they left, I swear!" Benson raised an eyebrow at him, knowing he was holding something back. His face flushed as he tripped over his words, "I m-mean yeah, she was definitely tipsy or, or tired," _Or drugged,_ Olivia silently added with derision, "but she was walking by herself!" he said defensively.

 _...Idiot._ "Any chance you still have the bills he paid with?" Benson asked tiredly.

"No, not three days later. Sorry detectives."

Neither seemed too surprised. "Ah well, it was a long shot anyway," Benson said with a frown. "Do you think you could describe him to a sketch artist?"

"Yes!" he said enthusiastically, "That I can do!"

"Good," Amaro said firmly. "Now, do those security cameras actually work, cause I'm going to need copies of your security tapes from the other night as well before you head down to the station with us."

He raised his shoulders in a shrug, "Uh, I guess they do? I don't know if we actually keep the footage or not though. My boss would know better, I can call her."

"Yeah do that."

As Sal went in the back, nervously glancing over his shoulder at them, Benson rounded on Amaro with an intensity that made him flinch back a little, "We're so CLOSE I can feel it! I swear to god, Nick, if this is another dead end..." Olivia shook her head, bringing her hands up to rub at her temples.

"I know," he said simply, wanting to comment on her intensity but not trusting himself to get into it with her right now. He jerked his finger towards Sal's muffled voice, "What else could junior tell us?"

Olivia looked back down at the iPad, absentmindedly flicking through the photos on the screen. "He didn't recognize any of our other vics," she mused, "and he hasn't seen anyone suspicious hanging around lately. What the hell are we missing?"

Amaro was saved from answering when Sal came back into the room. "Okay, detectives, good news, and bad news," he said with an obnoxiously cheery tone.

Benson closed her eyes shut, counting to ten in her head while Nick shot him a sharp look that screamed _Get to the point_.

Sal swallowed heavily, "Uh, yes, so, unfortunately, the footage from our security cams erases itself the next day so our footage from that night is gone, but my boss said I could lock up and come with you guys right now to get the sketch done so that's good, right?"

"Perfect," Benson deadpanned before walking away to call Rollins who was with Fin canvassing other bars in the area.

There was an awkward pause as Olivia walked away. His partner's churlishness seemed to cure him of his own as he glanced at the skinny bartender who looked jumpy as hell, "Thank you," Amaro said to Sal with as much sincerity as he could, hoping to repair some of the damage he and Benson's curt words had done. It wouldn't do to scare him off with their bad attitudes. "And, uh, sorry about that," he added, "We've just been working overtime, I'm sure you get it."

Sal nodded, relaxing a little. "Yeah, I bet," he paused, glancing over to where Benson was talking animatedly into the phone. "Is she like, related to Susie or something?"

Nick eyed him strangely, "No... Why'd you ask?"

"I don't know they look alike I guess, never mind."

Amaro didn't say anything as Olivia walked back up to them. "Okay, let's go. Fin and Rollins didn't get anything, they'll stop by Melinda's before coming back to the station."

"Sounds good," Amaro said quickly before turning to Sal. "You ready?"

"Yeah just let me lock up," he said as the two detectives left the bar.

The two partners stood there in silence listening to the sounds of the city.

Olivia found it surprisingly grounding as she spoke, "I've been doing this for a long time Nick and it never gets any easier," she said softly. "The only thing that makes it worth it is putting the bastard away."

"Then we'll do that," he said with conviction. "We have so much more now than we did yesterday, Liv."

"I know... and that's what worries me. He's losing his composure and he's gonna bring down as many women as he can down with him."

"Not if we have anything to say about it," he said darkly.

Her eyes narrowed. He was right. Whatever irrational fear she was grappling with needed to be put on hold. It was making her irritable and sloppy when she couldn't afford that. She had a job to do.

She nodded and sucked in a deep breath before turning to give him a determined look, setting aside her lingering disquiet for now. Amaro bit back a sigh of relief at the sight; he finally had his partner back. As Sal came back, blabbering on about how important security was these days, Olivia blocked it out with ease. As she reviewed the crime scene in her mind again, it was no longer to ruminate on the chilling details but to try and look at the scene as the objective detective she should've been. She could do this. There was no reason to make this personal after all.

* * *

The man's eyes narrowed as she climbed out of the car, her mouth moving as she said something to her partner. He couldn't help but fixate on her long legs. Detective Benson was taller than his other girls, almost as tall as him if he remembered correctly. Which, of course, he did. He remembered everything about their first meeting.

He'd been waiting for her to show up for a while now so he drank her in, eyes lingering in impolite places, blocking everything out until an unexpected movement caught his attention. His eyebrows shot upwards in surprise as that gangly bartender from the other night crawled out of the backseat. _How the fuck?!_ His hands gripped his steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he felt a flicker of unease that quickly morphed into anger. Fucking bartenders. If that little bitch told her anything, if she recognized him before he wanted her to… He reflexively ran his fingers through his hair to calm himself, breathing out slowly. If that happened, he could handle it. He always did.

Naturally, he already knew he'd have to go about things differently with her; as a trained "special victims" detective there was no way he could get her to voluntarily drink anything and she probably had self-defense training he'd have to worry about too. If all went well though, that would mean nothing. He had a couple of ideas in the works already, each more promising than the last. The more rational part of him tried to reason with him, tell him it wasn't worth it, that there were other women out there, but a much louder, more dominating part of him loved the challenge of it, loved planning it.

As she stepped into the building, he relaxed into his seat. He let out an annoyed sigh; he should probably head back now and come by later to follow her home. If he missed her, he had other means of locating her apartment obviously, but he always preferred to follow his girls rather than find them. For now, though, that would have to do if she didn't show. He ran through the list of things he'd need to prepare as he pulled away from the precinct, mulling things over. He'd be able to get everything fairly easily and then it was just a matter of time, clever planning, and a hint of luck. Not that he needed it really. Either way... _Soon. Definitely soon._


	8. Chapter 8

Rafael made sure to school his expression, letting no emotion escape from behind his neutral mask as he headed towards his office briefcase in hand. If he knew his secretary, which he liked to think he did, she would be searching his face and body language for any and all signs of how his date had gone last night and he wanted to leave her guessing for a while. He'd left around 9 o'clock the night before with assurances that he wouldn't be stingy with the details in return for the excellent bar recommendation, so Carmen would surely find his poker face annoying. He fought back a smirk. _Oh, this will be fun._

His footsteps alerted his attentive secretary to his presence and she glanced up with a surprisingly serious expression that caused him to falter.

"Has the 1-6 gotten a hold of you yet?" she asked, forgoing any greeting.

"No?" His apprehension grew as he fished his phone out of his pocket. No new notifications. "Why?"

Her face was grim. "Sergeant Munch called your office about ten minutes ago to inform you that they found another victim this morning," she explained. His stomach dropped. _Damn._

"Okay," he said thinking hard but taking the news in stride. His voice became clipped as he rattled off a semblance of a plan, "I'll need you to direct my calls for the day, I need to be at the precinct. I'll probably be back later this afternoon, I'll call ahead if I need to set up a meeting with my bosses."

"I'll take care of it," Carmen promised. "And Barba?"

"Yes?"

"Your poker face sucks," she grinned, "I told you it'd go well."

* * *

Benson couldn't help but sigh in relief as they left Sal in an empty interrogation room with promises that they would be back as soon as they spoke to their captain. The man's eyes had widened as the elevator doors opened revealing the tip line set up in the bullpen and he'd immediately started up with the many questions the bartender simply couldn't hold back. They'd humored him but after seeing Fin, Rollins, Barba, and the captain gathered around the screens and a corkboard with what appeared to be a map, they'd had little patience for the man's curiosity, shuffling him along towards the interrogation rooms as quickly as they could.

As the two partners walked up to the group, the squad and Barba gave nods of greeting that were returned with nods of their own, Barba and Benson holding their gaze for a beat longer than was perfectly normal. The captain turned to the two detectives expectantly, "So who was that?"

"Sal Hernandez, a bartender who saw Susan Cutler leave with a man the night she was murdered," Benson said with a hint of a smile.

Amanda let out a rush of air while Fin's shoulders dropped. "Bout time we caught a break," he said with a relief that was mirrored in everyone's expressions.

"I know," Amaro agreed, addressing the captain next, "We already have a sketch artist on the way, could be 10 minutes or 40, don't know quite yet. We've left him interrogation 2 for now so he's out of the way."

"Excellent," Cragen exclaimed, some of the worry lines in his face softening, "While we're waiting, let's get a detailed description of the man and anything he saw," he turned towards Amaro, "Amaro, you take that for now, I'll have Benson fill us in on the crime scene."

"Yes sir," Amaro said with a nod before heading to his desk to grab and pad and paper.

As her partner walked off towards the interrogation rooms, Benson surveyed the photos already on the screen sent over from CSU.

"What can you tell us?" Cragen prompted.

The crime scene swam before her eyes and her expression darkened, her anger rising again. "The vic was posed this time, left along a fairly sheltered part of a popular jogging path, and had 'Me: 5, NYPD:0' written on the top of her forearms." Her eyes met Barba's and she glanced away quickly before continuing, hating the way his eyes seemed to study hers.

She shook it off and continued, listing off the most pressing details, "When we found Jane Doe, the writing was semi-hidden as her arms were facing palm-up. There was nothing in the surrounding area to give us anything to work with, no drag marks, footprints, etc.. Other than the increase in the violence to her face, everything was consistent with his M.O."

"In other words, not much to work with," Fin said pessimistically.

"True but she did have blood under her fingernails," she paused, "Did we find out who called the tip line?"

"No, Munch traced the number back to a nearby phonebooth but the street cams never caught the person's face. We tried to follow them through the cams but we lost them after a block or two," Amanda explained, looking exasperated.

Benson nodded, biting her lip in concentration as she looked up at the corkboard which had a map with several highlighted areas. "What's this?"

"Fin and I just got back from the M.E.'s office," Rollins stated, "She got the results back on the pollen and dirt which, if you overlay areas with both samples present, gave us these areas as starting points."

"That's a lot of space to cover," Benson said with a frown as she examined the map, crossing her arms.

"Exactly," Fin said, "Which is why we're hoping to get something from our latest vic."

"Did we get something on our Jane Doe then?" Olivia asked with interest.

"She's no longer a Jane Doe," Rollins said with a smile.

"Meet Heather Cline," Fin pulled up a mug shot on the screen, "Her prints popped up in the system from when she was busted for the use of counterfeit money. We've already reached out to her only living relative, an aunt out in Arizona, she will be by sometime tomorrow."

Barba chose then to speak, looking a little impatient, "Okay now that Liv's all caught up, Fin, you were saying Melinda had something else for us?"

"Yes, like **Liv** said," Fin said, emphasizing Barba's use of Olivia's nickname with a curious expression (Barba cursed himself while Olivia maintained an impressive poker face), "Our vic had blood under her fingernails and it wasn't hers. Melinda already confirmed that from a quick blood type analysis," Fin explained. "She's sent the samples to the lab and has a rush on the DNA. Said she'd call as soon as she gets the results."

"Good," Barba said, hoping to gloss over his slip of the tongue, "If we get a hit on the DNA, don't worry about waiting around for a warrant, I will ensure you get one within the hour."

"If we don't get a hit," Cragen countered, "we'll need to look at Heather Cline."

"I disagree."

Everyone turned to look at Benson with varying levels of surprise and skepticism. She held her ground. "I think we've been looking at this the wrong way," Benson argued. Sensing their incoming questions—particularly from Cragen based on how high his eyebrows had risen—she pressed on, "We've been focused on his victims," she elaborated, "Trying to find our perp through them when we have two possible eyewitnesses we could be focusing on instead."

"Two?" Barba asked, confused.

Olivia nodded, "Yes, the bartender obviously, and the guy from the rental car place."

"But I thought the rental car guy didn't know shit," Fin said sounding skeptical.

Benson was quick to rebuttal, "Not really, but he said the guy paid with cash and gave a vague description of the guy."

"Only a vague description?" Barba questioned, one eyebrow raised, "That doesn't exactly distill confidence in his reliability as a witness, detective."

"I know but we've hit a dead-end with our vics," Olivia said dejectedly, running her hand through her hair to calm herself. "And vague or not, he still saw him, still talked to him. We can at least bring the sketch to jog his memory," Olivia argued, her voice growing more confident as she spoke, "This guy saw him back when he was still fresh, after his first victim. Getting caught on that security cam was the only mistake he made before now. Maybe we missed something earlier."

Fin, who had started nodding along, spoke, "I agree with Benson. It's worth a shot." Rollins nodded as well, turning to Cragen.

The captain seemed deep in thought as his detectives looked to him for answers. He searched their faces before giving a sharp nod. "Okay." The tension in Benson's shoulders melted away. "Rollins and Fin will still look into our 5th vic but this sounds promising. It's getting late in the day, you and Amaro should get over there before they close. But first, a word detective?"

"Okay Cap," Benson said cautiously, unable to stop her eyes from flicking to Barba who's forehead had nearly imperceptible crinkles of worry as he appeared to be scanning the crime scene photos on the screen. Fin and Rollins eyed her curiously before gravitating towards their desks to look into their latest vic as she followed Cragen.

As she stepped through the door, she clenched her fists tightly before releasing them to turn to her superior officer.

His face was stony. "Could you close the door?" he asked quietly before moving behind his desk, gripping the back of his chair.

She gave him a questioning look as she pulled it shut behind her. "Is everything okay, cap?"

"No, Olivia, it's not," he said with a stern look. "I asked you to run leads from the tip line yesterday and instead you disappeared leaving Amaro to deal with the call from the husband." As she opened her mouth to speak, he cut her off. "I'm not interested in what the hell you were doing for 20 minutes, but if you have to, what was it 'step outside?' you need to do more than text Amaro and you need to run it by me."

Olivia kept her face neutral, pushing aside her guilt. "I'm sorry Captain, it won't happen again."

"No, it won't. If I get the sense you're not up to this, I **will** pull you from this case." Olivia's stomach dropped as he paused to let it sink in. "Now get Amaro and get out of here. I expect to be briefed when you get back."

Olivia could only nod through the guilt bubbling in her stomach before she turned and left silently, unsurprised when she didn't find Barba where she'd left him.

* * *

Amaro left Sal with the sketch artist before heading towards the bullpen, impatient to grill Olivia about what he'd missed. A quick glance of the bullpen immediately clued him into the absence of his partner and he looked questioningly at Barba who was the only one still at the screens, Fin and Rollins currently in the midst of a heated conversation at their desks. Nick didn't bother clearing his throat before he spoke, "Barba."

The lawyer jumped a bit, his head whipping towards Nick with a slightly irritated expression. He recovered quickly. "Detective," Barba drawled.

"Where's Liv?" Nick asked bluntly.

"In with the captain," he responded just as sharply, subtly avoiding Amaro's eyes by jerking his head towards the door.

Amaro frowned before he nodded, coming to a decision. This would probably be the best opportunity he'd have to set things straight, "Good because we need to talk."

Barba's eyebrows shot up before his eyes narrowed. "Oh, we do, do we?"

"Yes." Nick's voice left no room for questioning.

Barba looked around, taking in the sight of the several officers and the other detectives before facing Amaro who was staring him down stubbornly, his jaw set. "Fine," Rafael spat out. "Not here."

"Fine," Amaro shot back, "Follow me."

Barba hated the strange sense of deja vu as Amaro turned around and swore to God he'd kill the man if Amaro brought him up to that fucking roof. He relaxed some as the detective turned instead towards the interrogation rooms, leading him past one where he caught sight of the gangly bartender talking animatedly to who he guessed was a sketch artist out of the corner of his eye. Rafael followed Amaro into an empty interrogation room, swallowing the sense of impending doom before choosing to settle on an expression of extreme annoyance.

"So what now?" Barba asked aggressively, refusing to move to sit at the table or move across from where the detective was staring him down with his arms crossed. "Are you here for the 'don't touch my partner' speech?"

"I don't care about that, Liv could take you any day," Nick stated while Rafael silently agreed. "But if you hurt her..." his voice trailed off threateningly.

"You'll what? ¡No te incumbe, Detective!" _It's none of your business, detective!_

"¿Estás jugando?" _Are you kidding me?_ Amaro retorted. "Of course it is! She's my partner!"

Barba's eyebrows shot up, "¿Y qué?" _So what?_ "Liv is her own person, she doesn't need you to ser un héroe." _b_ _e a hero._

"I know that! I'm just looking out for my partner!" Nick scowled.

"Fine," Barba rolled his eyes. "Consider me warned if that will help you sleep at night."

"I'm serious Barba."

"So am I," he retorted. "I'm not fucking around here!" Amaro's eyes narrowed as Barba shifted awkwardly. "Are you done?" he demanded.

Nick noted the light flush of the counselor's cheeks and the discomfort he tried to hide behind his annoyance. "We're done," he stated, less aggressively this time, "Don't fuck it up."

Barba scoffed. "Wow it's almost like that's the plan, detective," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He turned and pushed the door open, not looking back, only to lock eyes with the very person they'd just been arguing over.

"Liv!" Rafael exclaimed, surprised.

Olivia was frozen in the hallway, eyes wide with mutual surprise, clearly having been searching for one or both of them. She said nothing, and he grimaced as her eyebrows rose higher watching her partner enter the hallway out from behind him. Both men had the decency to look abashed as her eyes narrowed as they flicked between the two. "Having fun?" she snarked, crossing her arms, dryly amused by their clear discomfort.

Barba was quick to speak, glaring at her partner. "Not at all, actually."

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards by their own accord as Amaro's worry morphed into a scowl. Barba's face, on the other hand, relaxed at her expression. He gave her a slight smirk.

"Whatever **that** was," Olivia said, gesturing at them, "I don't want to know." She turned to Nick. "We need to leave soon, we need the sketch and then we're talking to the car rental guy."

Amaro recovered quickly, not even questioning the new information in his eagerness to avoid his partner's scrutinizing stare. "Good, I'll, uh, go let Sal and the artist know we need the sketch," he said before escaping down the hallway at an unusually brisk pace.

Barba watched his retreat with amusement before Olivia spoke quietly, "Nice slip of the tongue earlier. I thought the whole purpose of avoiding 'Benson' during personal time was so you could actually use it at work, counselor, not Liv."

"Ah, well," Rafael rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before catching sight of her soft smile. _She's teasing me,_ he realized with an alarming amount of fondness. He quickly shoved the thought away for later, "Did Cragen go hard on you?"

"About disappearing yesterday, yes," she elaborated.

"Mm," he hummed in understanding. Cragen didn't suspect anything. There was a pause as he studied her face, sensing some of her residual guilt. Barba found himself thinking back on the flash of anger and pain he'd seen in her eyes as Olivia had described the crime scene. "How are you?" he asked softly.

She gave him a sharp look. "Not here," Olivia said quietly but firmly. "I can't."

He understood. "Okay, Liv."

"Later," she promised.

His expression softened. "Okay," he paused, not wanting to seem overeager, but his genuine concern won, "I'll be in a meeting with my bosses for a while but I'll be free tonight," he said hopefully.

"I'll probably be on call," she frowned, "Depends if this lead goes anywhere." Her eyes closed in frustration.

Rafael reached out quickly, grabbing her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze before dropping it suddenly. He spoke a little louder than normal as he nodded at her, "I'll see you later Detective."

Olivia glanced over her shoulder to see Amaro headed towards her with a comically disgusted look on his face. "Bye Barba."

Amaro joined her as Rafael headed towards the captain's office. "The sketch artist said to give her 5 and then we're good to go," he hesitated slightly before gesturing down the hallway, "He's not so bad."

Olivia oggled him with disbelief. She knew how the ADA aggravated her partner. "What the hell happened in there?"

"I thought you didn't want to know," he countered.

"Fine, fine," she acquiesced. Nick shook his head but couldn't help grinning as he caught her mumbled reply, "Sneaking off... Now who's the distracted one?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, classes are brutal and I wanted this chapter to be perfect. It's a long one so hopefully, that will make up for it!

The door opened with a cheerful jingle, causing the tall man at the counter to jump a little. The rental car shop was empty except for him; he clearly hadn't been expecting anyone so close to closing. His head whipped towards Benson and Amaro who entered with a purpose, a piece of paper in Nick's hand. The man's surprise was quickly replaced with a decidedly curious smile as he recognized the brunette.

"Detectives!" He pointed at Olivia, "Benson right?"

"That's right," Olivia jerked her head towards Nick, "This is my partner, Detective Amaro."

The man stuck his hand out to Nick who shook it quickly, "Albert Jones. I'm guessing you're not here for a rental?" the man asked jokingly.

"Nope," Amaro said a little impatiently, "We actually need you to tell us everything you remember about the man you described to my partner a few weeks back and take a look at this sketch."

The sketch they'd gotten from the bartender didn't look very useful to Olivia—a white, bearded man with brown hair wasn't exactly unique by anyone's standards—but hopefully this wouldn't be another dead end.

"I don't know how much that's going to help," Albert said, stretching his hand out to grab the paper, his eyebrows crinkling as he examined the sketch with narrowed eyes.

"Still. It might help jog your memory," Amaro reasoned, "He might've said something to you that could help us get him. Anything could help."

He tore his eyes from the sketch. "Look detectives, I get a lot of people in here," Albert complained, "You're lucky I remembered what I did in the first place."

"Humor us," Olivia said with slight annoyance, "Tell us anything you got."

Albert's face tightened before he sighed heavily. "It's like I told you last time. The guy was average, he paid with cash. I don't remember anything else," he crossed his arms, "I just don't have what you need."

"You have to take **some** information from your customers," Olivia argued, getting a little heated, "If we could get a copy of your records we could—!"

Albert immediately cut her off, "Don't think so," he said, shaking his head, "Nice try detectives. I can't just hand over my client's information just because you say so. This company respects our customer's privacy."

Olivia frowned deeply while her partner scowled. "Last time I checked, there's no 'car owner–client' privilege," Nick countered irritably.

Albert's face became stony. "My customers expect a certain level of privacy, detectives," he repeated. "I won't violate their confidence. If you want my records, you'll just have to come back with a warrant."

Benson opened her mouth to argue before thinking better of it. The hard set of the man's jaw screamed of stubbornness. She settled on an irate scoff as she turned towards the door, dismissing the man altogether.

"We'll do that," Amaro stated, setting aside his annoyance at the sight of his partner's retreat. "Until then, hold onto that sketch. Think on it."

"Don't hold your breath," Albert said stiffly.

Before he left, Amaro glanced back to see the man staring intensely at the sketch in his hand. A flicker of hope undercut his frustration; maybe the unpleasant man would be just the break they'd been looking for.

* * *

It became obvious very quickly that Nick's optimism was not shared by his partner.

Olivia was pacing back and forth in front of Munch, Amaro, and the captain, her anger getting the better of her despite all the warning signs jangling in her mind. Maybe it was the most recent crime scene photos littering the screens or rather all five ( _five!_ ) license photos of their victims but behind her furious glare, Olivia's stomach was churning. Amaro's voice came unbidden again. _Y_ _ou two could've been sisters, Liv, that's how similar you look. That doesn't freak you out a little?_ She ignored the stab of worry she felt and turned to Cragen with a fiery expression, "This guy is hiding something captain, I can feel it."

His face was impossible to read as Cragen studied her face. After a beat, he turned to her partner, "Amaro?"

Nick avoided Benson's gaze, "I don't know… He did get irritable with us."

Olivia let out a huff of air, "Seriously Amaro?! He barely looked at the sketch before he was spewing that crap about privacy. He didn't want us anywhere near his records and I want to know why!" When no one spoke, Amaro's eyes trained on the ground, her temper flared again and her voice grew louder, "I know he's hiding something!"

"Or," Munch was quick to interject, "he's a businessman protecting the Fourth Amendment."

She rolled her eyes, her filter all but gone as her eyes landed on a side-by-side comparison of their victims' four-fingered hands, "That's bullshit."

"Olivia!" Cragen snapped, his eyes flashing.

She froze, mouth slightly agape as her words sunk in. "I—!"

Her captain cut her off with a thunderous growl. "My office. Now."

Olivia simply nodded, her dread growing with every step towards his office; she couldn't see her partner's concerned gaze as she stepped into the office for the second time that day.

As the door closed shut behind her, Benson immediately rounded on Cragen, her face twisted with guilt.

"I swear, I didn't—!"

"You're off the case." The captain's displeased voice held a note of finality that caused her stomach to drop.

"Wh-What?" Olivia's eyes widened.

"You're off this case detective," he repeated, just as firmly. "I warned you, Olivia. You're too emotional, you aren't thinking straight."

She tripped over her words, hating that she was proving his point, "I-I'm fine captain, it won't happen again." He didn't even have to give her a look to realize how her words sounded. She quickly changed tactics. "No, no you're right. I just—Just give me a night. You're right. I need to take a step back but don't pull me from the case," his eyebrows rose. "I can work it from here if necessary, we need all hands on deck for this one cap, you know that!"

He surveyed her, weighing her words in his mind. Cragen exhaled slowly from his nose, his eyes falling shut. "Fine. But you will take the night off," his voice grew concerned, "I'm worried about you Olivia. This isn't like you."

"I know. I just—These victims…" her voice trailed off as she brought her hands up to rub under her eyes.

Cragen simply nodded at her, looking contemplative. He sighed again, "I don't like pulling you in here detective," Olivia nodded in understanding. "Go. Workout, sleep, read, whatever will help," his face grew stern once more, "I don't want to see you in here again."

Benson nodded gratefully before she turned to leave, "Yes, captain. You won't. I promise."

* * *

Olivia was nursing a glass of red wine, her TV playing in the background as her leg bounced erratically. She had tried to relax, even drawing up a bath and soaking for a while but the case pulled at her, a constant itch at the back of her mind. She hadn't even been away from the precinct 2 hours before she'd given in to the feeling, pouring over the files with a fevered intensity that blocked out everything.

The unexpected sound of her phone ringing pulled Olivia back to the present causing her to jump, swearing softly as she struggled to pull her phone out of her deep sweatpants pocket.

She caught the call on the last ring, answering with a curt "Benson." She couldn't help but smile as she recognized his voice immediately.

"Olivia, it's Barba. My meeting ended early, I'm at the precinct, where are you?" His voice had the brisk quality she associated with those moments between arraignments where he shot question after question at the detectives and took that to mean he was either in a hurry or impatient to see her. She hoped it was the later.

Olivia paused at his question, unsure of how she would put this. No matter what she said, he'd want to know more, "I'm at my apartment."

"Oh?" The curiosity in his voice was undercut by his genuine concern.

"Yep," she said, effectively shutting his gentile probing down.

There was a pause, "So are we not going to talk—?"

"Nope." Her 'p' popped.

"Okay."

An awkward silence fell, Olivia grappling with the idea of inviting him over before she gave in, "What are you—?"

"I'm not doing anything tonight," it came out in a rush. Rafael paused awkwardly, "If that's what you were going to ask," he let out an uncharacteristically nervous laugh, surprising her, "That was a bit presumptuous of me."

"No, no you were right," she reassured him quickly, the corners of her lips twitching upwards.

She could hear the smile in his voice, "A drink then?"

Her nose crinkled at the thought of going out tonight, "Fuck that, I'm already in sweats, just come over."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his surprise obvious.

Her voice became husky, "I'm positive, Rafael."

"Mm okay Liv," he drawled. If she knew Barba, he was smirking hard. "I'll be there in 40 tops."

"Don't take too long," she warned with a grin.

His voice darkened, "Oh I wouldn't dare. See you soon, detective."

"I look forward to it, counselor."

"Bye Liv."

"Bye Rafael."

* * *

Olivia opened the door 34 minutes later to find Rafael waiting for her with a smirk, "Fast enough for you, Olivia?"

She exaggeratedly checked her watch, pursing her lips. "It will have to do, I suppose."

He ran his eyes down the length of her body, admiring the way her sweatpants clung to her hips and how her thin tank top hugged her breasts. Olivia flushed under his intense gaze, "I'm sure I can make up for it tonight," he murmured to her.

She sucked in a breath, her eyes dilating. "This is happening then?"

"You tell me, hermosa," he smirked as he leaned against the doorframe, "As I recall it was you who insisted on your place."

"'Insist' is a strong word, Rafael," she countered, her excitement growing as well as her impatience, "You didn't seem too keen to argue otherwise after all."

"Hmm, I suppose that's true," he said with a crooked grin, that had the corners of her lips twitching upwards, "But then again, how on earth could I refuse you?" his voice lowered as his eyes wandered down her body once more, lingering at the swell of her breasts. "Temptress."

The word had barely fallen from his lips before Olivia positively growled, pitching forward to grab him by those fucking suspenders. Their lips were eager and wanting, the pent up tension fueling their harried exploration. Rafael, luckily having the presence of mind to actually move out of the doorway, let out a low groan as he propelled them forward, one hand falling to grip her hip as the other fumbled for the doorknob, effectively pulling the door shut. He relished in the taste of her, the smell of her hair wafting over him as he managed to spin an eager Olivia around to pin her to the door, immediately grinding his hips against hers.

She gasped sharply at the feeling of his cock pressed firmly against her thigh, her lips parting to give him the access he wanted as Rafael deepened the kiss. She brought one hand up to the back of his neck desperate for more of him as their tongues clashed, barely aware of how his hands ran down her sides until her core clenched as he firmly gripped her ass.

A small chuckle rose from the back of Rafael's throat at the way she arched into him eagerly and responded in kind as his hands made their way upwards and to her front, his fingers dancing along the edge of her tank top. She shivered as his fingers slid under the fabric momentarily, pushing it up a bit as his hands splayed out across the smooth skin of her stomach. As quickly as they'd come, his hands disappeared. Olivia fisted the material of his suit jacket as she grumbled in annoyance against his lips.

Her annoyance was immediately forgotten as his hands cupped her breasts through the thin material of her tank top, his thumbs purposefully brushing over her already sensitive nipples. Olivia bit back a strangled moan that caused Rafael's cock to throb. He pulled back from her only to press his lips against the sensitive skin of her neck before he started to gently suck. He grinned against her skin as she positively melted into him. His lips moved down her neck at a torturously slow pace that had her biting back pleas for him to keep going, to— _Oh god, lower, please_. Rafael brought his head up to lock eyes with her, the hunger in his eyes reflected in hers, lips parted and swollen while her chest heaved. The sight was almost his undoing.

"Oh, Liv…" was all he could manage before she was driving him backward, hands already pushing his suit jacket off. He kicked off his shoes, allowing her to rip his shirt out from where it was tucked in his pants. "Liv, Liv where—?"

"Shut up. Just move."

"Okay."

Her hands explored his body, wandering down to grip his erection at one point—she groaned in pleasure when he swore loudly in Spanish—as she led him towards her bedroom, pausing when they reached the door to allow him to press the length of his body against hers. She grinned mischievously as she twisted the doorknob behind him and stumbled forwards causing him to pitch backward suddenly, laughing as he let out a surprised yelp.

As he righted himself, he surveyed her amused face with playful indignation before his eyes darkened in a way that had her pressing her legs together to attempt to relieve tension, already wet. He smirked slowly, dragging his eyes down her body while he methodically removed his cufflinks, leaving them on her dresser. She reached to pull her shirt off, freezing when his eyes narrowed.

"Stop. I want to do that."

Olivia bit her lip with pleasure at the thought, shrugging with feigned nonchalance to show him she was fine with that, deciding to enjoy the sight of him undressing while she waited. He did not disappoint.

His long fingers worked at the knot of his tie quickly and efficiently before he pulled it off, his eyes not leaving hers for a second. Rafael deftly unbuttoned his shirt revealing a toned chest and abdomen, not necessarily muscular but definitely not pudgy. Olivia couldn't help but admire his body, her breath catching in her throat as she felt a rush of heat that had everything to do with the scattering of curls starting at his navel that traveled downwards.

As he discarded his shirt, she expected him to unbutton his pants, buzzing with anticipation but Rafael clearly had a different idea when he pushed towards her. Olivia startled some as he crowded her without touching her. With their shoes off, he was only slightly taller than her; she cocked her head to the side questioningly at his intense gaze.

"Are you sure you want this Olivia?" Rafael asked, his voice low and rough.

She swallowed heavily, her face serious, "Yes. All of it."

His face broke into a wide grin that had her blushing, warmth rising in her chest. His hands caressed her hips as he kissed her softly this time; her knees weakened as his tongue ran along her bottom lip. Olivia let out a little whimper of relief as he drew her closer and she finally touched his warm skin. She was barely conscious of the way her fingers trailed up his back before she tangled one hand in his hair, the other on her lower back, pressing him ever closer. Her small moan combined with the feeling of her hands on his bare skin was too much for Rafael; he needed his skin on hers. Now.

He broke the kiss off only to step back, gripping the bottom of her tank top and slowly peeling it off of her. Olivia raised her arms to help him before her vision was obscured by the material, her hair becoming entangled around the material. Rafael grimaced as he gently untangled her, not wanting to pull her hair (at least not yet). When he finally got it off, they were both laughing, Rafael's face flushed with mild embarrassment.

His embarrassment was quickly forgotten at the sight of her shirtless, her hair mussed up, eyes bright. Rafael's hands scrambled to unbutton and unzip his pants as Olivia moved back towards the bed, her eyes watching him with an intensity that caused his fingers to fumble and his breath to catch in his throat.

He stepped out of his pants and approached her slowly before invading her personal space, smirking at her as Olivia fell back onto the bed with a small "Oof!" Rafael climbed on top of her, hovering over her body as he kissed her softly, her back arching upwards in a desperate effort to feel his skin on hers. When she nipped at his bottom lip, trying to get him to deepen the kiss, Rafael pulled back with a grin at her impatient scowl.

Her eyes were fiery, "Jesus fucking Christ Barba, I swear to god if you don't—Oh!"

Her eyes popped open in surprise as his mouth covered her nipple and began to expertly suck at her, his other hand gently teasing her with soft pinches. Her legs instinctually pressed together at the sudden rush of wet heat and she couldn't help the way she cried out, her voice husky and so very needy.

"Oh—f-fuck, Rafael!"

Her head fell back in pleasure as he bared his teeth to lightly bite at her before he diverted his attention to her other nipple, repeating his ministrations until she was panting and pushing her breasts upwards, craving more of the pleasure his mouth was giving her.

She didn't bother hiding her frustration as he abandoned her breasts, his kisses trailing lower down her abdomen. His cock was uncomfortably hard as his fingers danced along the edge of her sweats before he gave in, hooking them and pulling them down her long legs to discard them on the floor. She looked like sin, laying there in nothing but her underwear, her hair splayed out behind her, bare chest rising and falling rapidly as Olivia took in the sight of him kneeling between her legs, pure lust written on his face.

"Dios mío, estás matándome, Liv, matándome." _My god, you're killing me, Liv, killing me._

She opened her mouth to speak only for her voice to cut off in a strangled groan as his fingers dipped into her underwear. He let out a moan of his own, followed by a string of Spanish expletives at the way his cock twitched knowing how wet she was already. The pad of his thumb brushed against her clit causing her body to jolt and she gasped sharply. His touch was light and teasing and Olivia nearly cried as the sensation of his fingers disappeared. Olivia brought her head up to plead with him, her body wound up before he finally dragged the last of her clothing down her legs.

The sight of her wet and spread for him was intoxicating and he had to restrain himself as he kissed her inner thigh, teasing her as her licked her softly, a promise of what was to come. The corners of his lips twitched upwards as she cursed him and he drew away.

Her face was twisted with need, her hand coming down to try and touch herself before he grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "Please, Rafael! Please I—!"

She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood with a whine as his tongue finally dipped between her legs. Her head fell back with a loud moan as he moved to suck on her clit, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. He stopped only to bring his eyes up to watch her pleasure before her hand tangled into his hair pulling him back to where she desperately wanted him. He gave a soft laugh and continued to lazily draw her closer and closer to her climax with his tongue, applying more pressure as her legs began to tremble.

As she approached her climax, Olivia could no longer censor her thoughts, words spilling out of her until every muscle in her body tensed, her hands starting to tingle before her vision blacked out, Olivia finally crying out as her body burst with pleasure. Rafael continued to pleasure her, prolonging her high as long as he could before her body stilled.

When he went to pull away, she gripped his wrist. "No. Rafael, I want you. All of you."

His eyes darkened as he nodded and she pulled herself up onto her elbow to lean over and grab a condom from the side table next to her bed. He pushed his boxers down, his cock springing free, and took it from her. She only had eyes for him as he kneeled on the bed and ripped it open before he rolled it down his impressive length. Rafael leaned forward, capturing her lips in a chaste kiss before he hovered over her again, positioning himself at her entrance. He let out a deep groan as he slowly pushed himself in her, burying himself. Olivia's hands gripped his shoulders hard as he pulled out slowly before he sank into her again. Her body tightened around him as Rafael began to talk, telling her how good she felt, how incredible she looked when she came, how he'd dreamed of this all the while his pace increasing until he was slamming into her hard. They were both gasping, so close, and his pace became hurried and desperate, his breaths coming out in rough pants until her body shuddered against his and he broke, finally spilling into her as they collapsed into a tangle of limbs, spent.

When they finally slept that night, it was together, her leg thrown over his, his hand against the small of her back.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember "Four days earlier..."? Welcome to Day Four. For those of you who are here for the casefic, get ready. No amount of Barson can stop the Pinky Pervert... Just so you know, I think updates will be biweekly now. Feel free to leave any and all feedback, I hope you enjoy!

Neither of them had expected Rafael to stay the night but then again, they also didn't expect the ease the morning brought with it. Rafael had anticipated awkwardness at best, outright embarrassment at worst but it had been good. Surprisingly good.

If they wanted to nitpick then sure, he'd woken up and cursed softly when he looked at the time but he'd also woken up to Olivia's head in the crook of his neck, her hand curled up on his chest. And yeah maybe she'd planned on catching up on the sleep she was sorely missing but how could she complain after they'd broken down laughing as he almost fell flat on his face rushing to pull up his pants? How could they complain after they'd made plans to try and get dinner that night if they could swing it, both hoping for a repeat of the night before? They just couldn't and it brought Olivia a lightness she hadn't felt in a while. She was finally rid of the weight that had been sitting in her chest for weeks and it replenished her. By the time she pulled into the precinct, she had a new determined attitude, fueled not by anger but by her intrinsic sense of justice. She was, simply put, inspired.

Unfortunately, however, this new outlook couldn't erase the consequences of her actions the day earlier and any hopes that the captain had forgotten the conversation from the night before had been crushed almost immediately. The squad had held a short briefing, confirming that while they would pursue the issue of the rental guy's records, they would concentrate first on tracking down anyone significant from their fifth vic's life. Her partner was tasked with talking to CSU about their latest crime scene and hounding Melinda for the DNA results but when Benson had made to follow Amaro, Cragen had shot her a sharp look. To her chagrin, she was subsequently left behind with Munch to deal with the tip line. She appeased her frustration by stubbornly diving into whatever she could dig up on Albert Jones between calls, hoping she would find something to support her suspicions.

Luckily, the tip line had died down considerably like they always did after the first couple of days—New York had a short attention span—so she was able to gather as much information as she could on the guy. She hadn't been able to get through much of it though; there were still enough calls to keep her busy, to throw her off track. As Olivia held the phone to her ear with her shoulder, flipping through papers, she had to watch with jealousy as Fin and Rollins left to track down their vic's roommate. She gave a small wave before they left, glancing down at her cell as the man on the other end of the call continued to drone on about nothing of use to her. No texts from Amaro. _Damn._ Either he was still with CSU or he was at the M.E.'s office. Either way, it looks like they were still waiting on the DNA results then. Hopefully, they'd get a hit soon; she'd give anything to chase down another lead with Amaro. At least then she'd know she was actively doing something helpful.

Olivia hung up with a sigh, absentmindedly staring down at her notes from her interview with Jones from almost a month ago now, exhausted suddenly. That rental car had been their first lead of many that all ended with dead ends. Dead end after dead end after dead end. And now their vics were dead too. Susie Cutler's body swam before her eyes. Her poor husband. His breakdown at the M.E.'s office had been heartbreaking; the poor man had looked so lost as he wandered down that hallway. He had no idea what was coming to him, to his wife. Benson shook her head, God to come home to that...

_Wait a second..._

She was suddenly struck with the overwhelming sense that she was missing something.

... _To come home?_

Olivia's eyebrows knit together in concentration, as she tried to remember what he'd said during that awful ID. When it hit her, Olivia audibly gasped and jumped into a standing position, adrenaline flooding her body.

That's what they'd missed! In the day after they'd found Susie, everyone had wondered why it took so long for Susie to be identified, thinking at first she was a loner, unmarried maybe, but no. John Cutler hadn't known his wife was dead because he was away at a conference.

And he'd used a rental car to get there.

Olivia started frantically searching through the papers on her desk, searching for her notes on her other vics while Munch stared at her with startled confusion.

"What's going on, Benson?"

Her hands were shaking, "I think, oh, but I could be wrong, but if not we could—Where are they?!"

Munch's voice was exasperated as he stood, walking over to her desk, "That gives me nothing Olivia."

"I think I found it!" Olivia set aside some papers, letting out a "Yess!" when she found the notes she was looking for. Her eyes scanned them frantically before she let out a thrilled cry.

"Liv!"

Her head shot up, looking at him with confusion, "What?"

"What did you find?!"

"The link!" she exclaimed with a wide grin, "The link between our victims!"

* * *

Olivia glanced down at her watch anxiously as she knocked on Katherine's door for the third time. Their first vic had been particularly reclusive after her attack, growing even more distant after the case became public so Benson hadn't seen her for about a week.

After her epiphany, she and Munch had feverously searched through her notes while Olivia wracked her brain for anything she could've forgotten. Between that and the several calls they'd made, they were able to determine that Susie Cutler had rented the car for her husband's business trip and their third vic's husband was currently renting one while their car was in the shop. Benson had tried to get a hold of Emily or Katherine but neither had answered. In light of her newest hunch, Cragen had relented, allowing her to follow up on her suspicions while the other detectives were still tied up with their own tasks so she found herself here, knocking on the door.

Olivia was about to knock again when the door creaked open and Katherine's head peaked out. When she saw who was there, she immediately went to close the door and Olivia threw her hands up in surrender.

"Wait please!" she implored, "I'll only be a moment, I swear!"

Katherine's eyes narrowed at Olivia's pleading face before her body sagged, her exhaustion winning as she opened the door. "Fine. Only a moment."

Benson's shoulders dropped, relief flooding her body. "Thank you, Katherine."

The woman gave her a shrug before stepping into her living room, headed towards her couch that had a pile of blankets on the end in front of a short coffee table littered with junk. It looked like Katherine had been living in her living room.

Olivia swallowed heavily before turning to face the woman who stared back with dead eyes. "How have you been?"

"Therapy's been helpful but, uh, not great." Olivia nodded as Katherine sat on the edge of her couch. "Why are you here?" she asked, her voice tired and defeated, already expecting the worst.

Benson cleared her throat, "We've been looking into some new leads," the woman's eyebrows shot up in surprise, her four-fingered hand closing reflectively, "I'm so sorry but I need you to go over the days leading up to when we found you."

There was a pregnant pause as both women stared at each other, Olivia's eyes imploring, Katherine's wary.

She sighed heavily. "Fine. If it will help."

Olivia let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding in. "Anything you have to say will be useful, I promise."

Katherine's expression didn't waver as there was silence once more. "Okay," she finally stated, her face screwed up as she braced herself. When she spoke, her voice was monotonous. "I took off work for my high school reunion." Benson was a little startled as she laughed bitterly, "To think I was so worried about it. A fucking high school reunion. After what I've been through it seems so stupid."

"I remember that," Benson said softly, her face sympathetic. "We looked into some of your old classmates."

"I remember," Katherine said stiffly, bristling at the reminder, "I got a couple of calls that week."

Benson grimaced. "I'm sorry"

"It's whatever."

"This reunion… If I remember correctly it was in New Jersey?" Olivia prompted.

"Yeah. North Jersey."

Benson nodded her eyebrows furrowed, "How did you get there?"

"I rented a car," she stated simply. Olivia's stomach dropped. "It was more convenient than taking a bus and cheaper than taking a train."

Benson had to fight to keep her voice steady and her expression neutral. "Do you remember where you rented the car?"

Katherine eyed her curiously, "No, not really. I had other things to worry about detective."

"Yes, of course," Olivia acquiesced quickly while Katherine slumped further into her couch, reaching for her blankets.

She wrapped one around herself as she spoke, "I'd just come back from the reunion that night when it happened. I still don't remember any more." She paused, her eyes closing briefly. "I don't know what's worse. Not knowing everything or remembering the little I do."

Olivia felt a wave of empathy for the woman, "We're going to get him, Katherine," she stated confidently. "I promise."

Katherine couldn't look her in the eyes. "And then what? A highly public, drawn-out trial? Wonderful." Her tone betrayed her true feelings, sarcasm dripping from her voice, "He's already destroyed me, detective. After everything, all anyone has to do is look at my h-hand," she gestured with her left hand to her right "and they'll know what that bastard did to me".

Olivia shook her head with a serious expression. "You are so much more than what he did to you."

"Mmm," she hummed noncommittally, cradling her hand to her chest, "If you say so."

"I do."

Her eyes were trained on the ground, "Is that all, detective?" she asked, her voice strained. "I'm tired."

"I—" Olivia closed her mouth, rethinking. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm sorry."

Katherine gave her a weary attempt at a smile. "I know."

Benson smiled back, "I guess I'll head out then, let you rest. You can call anytime, I promise." She started heading towards the door, turning when Katherine spoke.

"I will." She paused, staring down at her right hand, "Let me know if you find anything."

Olivia was paused in the doorway "Of course."

"Later detective."

"Until then."

As the door closed, Olivia had one thought: There was no way this was a coincidence.

* * *

Amaro was becoming more and more impatient, his leg bouncing as he waited sitting on the uncomfortable chair. He checked his watch. He'd been here for almost 2 hours. _What the hell Melinda?_

Speak of the devil. Dr. Warner finally stepped out from the examination room holding her clipboard like always with an unreadable expression.

"Amaro, I've got something for you."

"Oh thank god, what is it?" he asked as he jumped up from his seated position.

As she headed towards their vic's covered body Melinda spoke, "We didn't get a hit off the blood under our vic's nails—"

"What!?"

"Let me finish!" she scolded with a frown, "We didn't get a hit but there was something different with this vic. She didn't have any traces of ketamine in her system."

Nick's eyebrows shot up, "Really? Why would he change that up?"

"I don't know. Judging by the bruising to her neck, more pronounced than your other vics, she may have been choked instead."

Amaro's face was serious, his concentration evident, "Was everything else consistent with the previous vics?"

"Yes," Dr. Warner said, "I'm sorry I couldn't be more helpful detective."

"Yeah. I am too."

* * *

Albert Jones was a highly intelligent man in his eyes, a clever businessman, and a competent boss. His father had started his rental car company, but it was him who'd taken it from a small local company and transformed it into a highly profitable chain with several locations throughout New York City. If things continued the way were now, they'd likely be able to expand and branch out farther into other states and beyond. He made good money, he was in good health, and had nowhere to go but up. In a lot of ways, his life was perfect.

He only had one problem. His debilitating weakness for brunettes. More specifically his irritating fondness for breaking them.

It wasn't his fault really. These women would come into his stores when he was at his most vulnerable, tired after a long day of work, checking in on his subordinates and maintaining the careful balance of his life. They'd come in and they'd throw him off that balance.

Like Detective Benson had.

Now there was a woman. She's come in flashing her badge, asking about the very car he'd used to transfer Katherine in the night before. She'd acted as if she was unaware of the way her shirt clung to her body, unaware of how distracting it was when she'd pushed her hair back from off her face. As she'd explained how they'd managed to track his car down, he'd been as sharp as always, making a mental note to be more cautious next time, giving her a vague description as he memorized her features. He'd been incredibly lucky. Not only could he steer the cops in the wrong direction, but he now knew he had to prepare himself for the ultimate challenge. Olivia Benson.

And tonight, finally, he was ready for her.

* * *

After her conversation with Katherine, Olivia found herself at her apartment, searching for a file she'd left behind with Emily's statement. Benson had been entirely unable to get ahold of the woman and needed to go through her statements with a fine-tooth comb in the meantime.

She had no idea where the hell she could've put it. As she searched her living area again she pulled out her phone and dialed Amaro. It went straight to voicemail.

She balanced her phone on her shoulder as she spoke to free up both arms and flipped over her couch pillows, "Hey Nick, looks like I missed you. I hope this means you're finally getting some info from Melinda." She wandered into her bedroom even though it seemed unlikely the file would be there, "Anyways, I think I've found our link. For real this time. Munch and I made some calls and went through my notes and I went and talked to Katherine. I think all our vics rented a car from the same chain and maybe even from the same person." As her eyes fell on her dresser she caught sight of Rafael's cufflinks. Her face started to heat up remembering the night before. She cleared her throat. "Yeah, anyway, I'll catch you up when we're back at the precinct, I just need to grab a file from home. I'll see you later."

As she hung up, she stepped forward and fingered the cufflinks before slipping them into her pocket. She'd give them back to Rafael next time she saw him.

Shaking her head, she went back into her living room before she caught sight of the file on her chair in her dining room. How had she missed that? Olivia grabbed the file and threw on her coat, patting her pockets to make sure she had everything before she stepped into her hallway and locked her door, mind already on her next task. She glanced up at the number above the elevator. 1st floor. It would be faster to take the stairs.

Olivia leafed through the file in her hand as she stepped down the stairs with the unconscious movements of someone who'd walked them many times before. As such, she wasn't watching where she was going when his hand suddenly gripped a handful of her hair.

Olivia let out a sharp gasp of surprise and pain as her head was yanked back, her training kicking in as her elbow flew backward. Whoever had a hold of her grunted as it rammed into his stomach but he didn't waver. She barely registered how her papers went flying, utterly shocked as her body crashed into his. She let out a scream as his other arm wrapped around her, bringing a chloroformed cloth up to her mouth. At 3 in the afternoon, very few of her neighbors would be home but maybe she'd get lucky.

"SHUT up!" he hissed in her ear, letting go of her hair only grip her head in a chokehold. Her breath was cut off; Olivia's eyes bulged. Her vision was becoming spotty but she continued to kick at him, pulling at his arms. His grip on her neck lessened slightly and she reflexively gasped for air but only finding the sickly scent of chloroform. Twisting her head away, Olivia let out a whine. Her head was spinning. Her kicks were feeble now as she squeezed her eyes shut. All she could do was pray someone had heard her scream as her body finally slumped, her vision fading to black.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone leaving kudos and reviewing... You have my heart. I've poured my soul into this and it's so rewarding to get feedback.
> 
> As for this chapter, it's definitely heavier than the ones previous but hopefully nothing too bad. I'll consider basing how detailed I write the coming chapters on your reviews but we'll see!
> 
> Also:
> 
> 1.) Writing waking up from unconsciousness scenes—Hard! Especially if you want to avoid being cliche as hell! Found that out quick.
> 
> 2.) Not including Barba in a chapter? Equally hard! What can I say, I love the guy.
> 
> But worry not. He will make a very emotional comeback next chapter, I promise. For now, let's see how Olivia is holding up... Enjoyyy! TW: semi-mild violence

Olivia didn't need to open her eyes to know she wasn't in her bed. The surface underneath her was too stiff and her cheek was pressed against something coarse, rough. _What—Where am I…?_

She felt sluggish, slow as she struggled to open her eyes. Her eyelids were heavy and— _Fuckk…_ Olivia let out a small whine, squeezing her eyes shut. The sudden onset of pressure in her head was excruciating and worse, steadily mounting as she became more and more aware of her surroundings. Besides her head, Olivia's shoulders ached as well; she vaguely recognized that her arms were twisted behind her. Something was cutting into her wrists. _Are those handcuffs?_ And her mouth. There was something covering her mouth. _What… happened?_

She stifled a groan, the most alert and rational part of her recognizing that she should probably take stock of her surroundings before potentially alerting anyone of her conscious state. Her eyes opened a crack.

They focused first on the straggly black carpet pressed to her face, illuminated by what appeared to be natural light streaming in through some window. She kept her ears open for anything that could give her any information on her situation before she slowly twisted her head up to get a sense of where this light was coming from.

She'd barely caught a glimpse when the floor jolted and sent her head falling back onto the carpeted surface with a sharp gasp of surprise and pain. The sudden movement worked twofold; it fully woke her up and confirmed what she'd been afraid of.

Olivia was in a car. A moving car.

_Fuck._

* * *

Nick stared unseeingly at the file in his hand, deep in thought as he recalled Dr. Warner's words. No traces of ketamine in her system… _Why? What had changed with this vic? Why deviate from his M.O. now?_

His head shot up as the elevator doors opened with a ding, effectively interrupting his thought process, and pulling him out of his musing. He had no idea what to do with this new piece of information. Amaro needed to talk to his partner.

He'd listened to Olivia's voicemail in the car with interest and slight exasperation at her vagueness. Benson only did that when she was exceptionally focused, unable to verbalize everything going on in her mind. The fact she'd done this now was equally irritating and comforting. If she was doing this, she must've stumbled on something good. He'd called her back to find out but she hadn't picked up. Hopefully, that just meant she and Munch were knees deep in this new lead. He was about to find out, he supposed.

As Nick approached the bullpen, his narrowed eyes swept over the scene before they were immediately drawn to Munch who was at Benson's desk alone flipping through some papers. He frowned at the sight. _Where was Olivia?_

Munch straightened up at the sound of his voice, "Hey Munch, is Liv here?"

The man shook his head, "No, she went to re-interview Katherine. She should be back soon."

"She isn't back by now?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "She called me about 30 minutes ago saying she just had to get a file from her apartment."

Munch shrugged, "You know Liv, she probably started reading the file and got sucked in. Did she tell you what we got?"

"Not really but she said it has to do with the rental company?"

Munch nodded in response. "She was looking at the guy from the rental shop, Albert Jones I think, when she remembered how our fourth vic's husband, Cutler I think, said something about his rental car during the ID. That opened the floodgates."

Nick's eyes widened as he recalled the man's rambling. "Shit, that's right! He had been at a conference or something."

Munch pointed his finger at him, "Bingo," he pulled a page out from the stack he was holding, "With all the false leads so far, we weren't sure if this was just another dead end coincidence but what really cinched it was this."

Amaro immediately recognized Benson's handwriting as he took the paper from Munch. These were her notes. "I remember this. These are from when we interviewed the husband of our third vic." Amaro brought his hand up to his forehead as he read further, shaking his head a little, "How did we miss this?" He looked up at Munch pointing at the sheet. "The husband got in a car accident the week before his wife was found. Let me guess, he rented a car?"

Munch nodded, "We called him to check and he confirmed it. While his car is in the shop, he's renting a car from the same place Susie Cutler did. We called her husband, too," he elaborated.

"And the other vics? What about them?"

"They didn't pick up when we called but Olivia said something about Emily planning a road trip so we guessed that's how she's connected. We'll confirm of course but we thought it would be better to check in with Katherine first."

Nick had to actively tamp down his building optimism, not wanting to get ahead of himself, "And?"

Munch shrugged, "I don't know. I haven't heard back from Olivia."

Worry stabbed at his stomach, "When did she leave? To go talk to Katherine I mean?"

Munch checked his watch, "Almost an hour and a half ago." He frowned. "You said she called needing to get a file?"

"Yeah 30 minutes ago," Amaro said slowly. "She only lives 15 minutes away."

The sergeant nodded contemplatively, "I bet she's still there. Call her."

"Okay."

Both men waited as the call went to voicemail.

"She wouldn't have gone after that rental guy would she?" Munch asked.

"I doubt it," Amaro said as he called again. Voicemail. "This isn't like her. I'm going to check her apartment."

Munch nodded. "Do that on the way to Barba's. We're going to need a warrant. I'll call Katherine just in case she went back there. And Emily while I'm at it."

"Okay. I'll let you know when I find her," Amaro said, already turning to leave.

Munch placed his hand on Nick's shoulder reassuringly, "She's fine Amaro."

"Yeah. I know."

* * *

Olivia's eyes were wide, her breathing shallow as she focused on the small bumps and movements of the car floor beneath her. Her eyes flicked down to her legs. They were taped together. The light of the afternoon sky was flickering on the floor by her feet, disrupted by whatever blocked the sun as they drove past. She could feel it, she could see it. The car was moving.

Which meant someone was driving. The same someone who'd taken her.

She remembered it now. Flashes of panic, of her body hitting his, his hand in her hair. The smell of chloroform…

Every part of her wanted to know who had attacked her, who had knocked her out, but all she could see were the back seats looming over her and the back window if she subtly strained her neck. With her hands cuffed behind her, she was at a disadvantage. If she wanted to look at her attacker, she'd have to move.

Olivia's mind went into overdrive; should she stay still and maybe catch him off guard later? Or should she try and see who he was? Did she know him? Maybe she could talk him out of this. Or would it be worse to move? She didn't know what to do.

Her body chose for her.

"Welcome back."

Olivia's body reflexively jerked at the unexpected voice, her eyes widening in recognition. She knew that voice. She twisted her head around towards where he was sitting in the driver's seat.

Albert Jones glanced back at her with a grin. "You were out for so long. You had me worried there for a bit detective."

The shock had struck her dumb; Olivia could only stare back with wide eyes.

"Nothing to say?" he asked mockingly. "Ah, that's right. The duct tape. That's fine. You'll have your turn to talk later."

Olivia's throat reflexively closed up as he stretched his hand awkwardly behind him to pat her thigh while he drove. She lurched away from his touch, her heart in her throat.

Albert laughed at her, "Jumpy little bitch, aren't you?" To her relief, he drew his hand back to the steering wheel.

"You seem shocked detective. I'm surprised. When I saw you with that bartender from the other night, I thought I was a goner. But no. You actually walked in with your partner and handed me my own police sketch!" He let out a cruel laugh, turning to grin down at her. Olivia twisted her head away, hating his smug smirk. "Turns out, all you have to do is shave your beard off and you become utterly unrecognizable! Who knew?"

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut as he laughed again, her fear ebbing away as cold fury replaced it. This was the bastard they'd been searching for. The bastard that had brutalized five women. The one that had murdered two of them. She would NOT meet that same fate. Olivia may not have her gun but she had her mind, her training, her resilience. He'd chosen his downfall by choosing her.

She needed to catch him off guard and fast. The farther they got from the city, the harder it would be for her squad to find her. She needed him to stop the car, pull over, something! Her hands clenched, Olivia made up her mind and twisted her head around to face him again. He was humming to himself, a self-satisfied look on his face.

She let a whine from behind the duct tape. Other then the way his lips quirked upwards, he gave no indication that he heard her.

She did again, louder this time. _Come on you bastard. Don't ignore me._

He rolled his eyes with an exaggerated sigh. "Did you say something Detective Benson?"

 _Fucking bastard!_ She swallowed her pride and let out a pitiful whimper that she knew he'd like. She was right.

Cloyingly sympathy colored his voice, making it soft and mocking, "That tape's a bitch huh? Do you need my help?"

Her eyes closed briefly not wanting to betray her rage just yet. She nodded at him.

His eyes met hers before he gave a curt nod. The clicking of a turn signal and the way her body shifted on the floor as the car lurched told her he was pulling over. _Good._

Albert gave her a lustful look as he parked and unbuckled. To her disappointment, he didn't open the door to come to her but instead opted to turn in his seat and lean over to grab her by the handcuffs. He violently jerked her body back towards him causing her to let out a very real shriek of pain as her shoulders were wrenched backward. His arms hooked underneath hers as he yanked her upright before one arm wrapped around her midsection to hold her in a vice. Twisting her around to face him, Albert let out a huff of amusement at her muffled protests. When he was satisfied by the way he held her, he pushed the hair off her face. She flinched away from his fingers to no avail; her body was flush to his. She could feel his breath on her face.

Albert's voice was low and dangerous as he fingered the duct tape on her lips. "Did you say something, Olivia?"

Before she knew what was happening, he viciously ripped the tape from her lips in one jerk causing her to gasp in pain as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

"Well?"

Her eyes were dark with anger when she recovered enough to glare him down. He cocked his head to the side waiting for a response. When she spoke, her voice was low but steady, "You're making a mistake Jones. I am an NYPD detective. My squad will hunt you down. They'll find me."

His face twitched as rage flashed across his features before it disappeared as quickly as it had come. The hand wrapped around her waist wandering upwards as he smirked at her.

Leaning in close, he whispered in her ear, "Oh, they will, will they?" He let out a groan as he fondled her breasts. Other than a sharp intake of breath, Olivia gave him nothing, staring straight ahead. She refused to give him a reaction.

Her skin was crawling. "They will."

At her words, he pulled back, his other hand moving quickly to grip her chin, forcing her to look in his eyes.

His words were simple but sent a shiver down her spine. "I'm going to put fear in these eyes."

Olivia swallowed heavily, still glaring him down defiantly as her stomach dropped. There was no emotion on his face as he appraised hers.

"I wonder how long it will take you to break."

Flashes of his previous crime scenes swam before her eyes as her face screwed up in disgust, her stomach churning. _Show no weakness._

Her voice sounded more confident than she felt, "You won't break me."

An eerie smile spread across his face, "Do you promise?"

He let go of her face only for him to flinch back in surprise as Olivia took the opening and pushed her head forwards, clipping his chin. He wasn't fast enough and his head snapped back causing him to grunt in pain as she tried to push off of him without the use of her hands. He recovered quickly, too quickly, his grip around her midsection becoming painful as he scrambled to keep ahold of her.

"You bitch!"

Olivia struggled against him before Jones changed his mind, shoving her to the floor of the car with as much force as he could.

"Wrong move Olivia!"

She bit back a scream as she landed with her arms trapped under her, immediately twisting her body in a desperate attempt to gain some traction, to get herself into an upright position where she stood a better chance of taking him out. The sound of a car door slamming caused her to jump and she redoubled her efforts, straining against the duct tape on her legs.

His voice was furious but muffled through the car door, "Where are you going, detective!?"

The door in front of her was thrown open and he stared down at her with a murderous expression, the sunset behind him a brilliant orange. Olivia was still writhing on the car floor, attempting to break free when her eyes were immediately drawn to the gun in his hand. It was pointed directly at her and she didn't doubt for a second that he would use it if she pushed him too hard.

"Stop. Moving."

Olivia froze. "O-Okay, okay. You're in charge," she placated, her voice shaky and scared.

Jones cocked his head to the side as his eyes ran down her tense but still body. "That's more like it," he drawled as he leaned into the car, looming over her, "But it's too late." Olivia's eyes widened, staring down the barrel of the gun. _No... No, he wouldn't. He wouldn't!_

The sight was nearly his undoing. _Now there's that fear._

Her eyes were trained on the gun so she was caught off guard as he lunged, letting out a shriek of pain when he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her towards him. As his arm wrapped around her neck and her body was dragged out of the car, she tried to slip out of his grasp once more but only succeeded in smashing her head against the side of the door. The blow disoriented her and gave him the opportunity he needed to drag her towards the back of the car.

The world was spinning around her and her vision was becoming spotty but Olivia knew a car trunk when she saw one. She also knew the feeling of a gun barrel pressed against her neck.

There was nothing she could do. He left her with one promise before his hands wrapped around her neck, before the trunk closed. Her death wouldn't be so kind as a bullet to the head. He'd make her suffer.

* * *

"Before you go, detective, one of the other residents found some papers scattered on the stairs. We're pretty sure they're Detective Benson's." The building super relayed the information casually to Nick as they headed away from Olivia's empty apartment. "They looked important so I've been keeping them safe for her in my office if you'd like to get them for her. I've called her several times but she still hasn't answered."

The man glanced to his left expecting a response only to startle as he didn't find Amaro next to him. He spun around confused to find Amaro a couple of paces behind him; he apparently had frozen in place at his words. Nick's face was almost pale as he spoke, "When were they found?"

The man looked unnerved by his unexpected and visceral reaction, "About 20-30 minutes ago? I'm sorry, am I missing something here?"

Nick's temper flared, "I don't know, you tell me!" He ran his hands through his hair to calm himself. When he spoke it was with careful control. "Sorry. And no one has seen her? Or anything suspicious?"

"No...? What's going on here detective?"

He ignored him. "I need the security cams from that staircase and the papers that were found. Now."

"O-Okay, just—" Amaro's eyes narrowed and the man swallowed heavily, "Yes, right away. I'll get them all just to be safe. If you could give me a moment."

He nodded, pulling out his phone to dial Munch, relieved as he answered on the first ring.

Munch got right to the point. "Did you find her?"

"No she wasn't in her apartment and her papers were found scattered all over the stairs, Munch." Amaro's voice was clipped and strained as he clutched the phone tightly, "Something happened to her. I can feel it in my gut."

The sergeant sounded troubled, "Okay, okay, Nick, let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet. She still hasn't answered her phone?"

"No, and it wasn't anywhere in her apartment, I checked."

"Damn," The worry in his voice was palpable. "Okay. I'm going to call the captain. In the meantime, get any security cam videos, check her apartment. Get back to me the second you have anything."

"I will." Before he could add anything more, he heard the sound of the super coming back; he had a stack of papers in his hands. "I need to go, Munch, I'll keep you updated." As he hung up, Nick turned to the man expectantly.

"Here are the papers. I can have the security tapes on a hard drive in 20 if you want to watch some of the tapes while we wait."

Nick only nodded, following the man with rising apprehension. What the hell was he going to find here? He sunk into the chair in front of the video monitors, blocking out the super's words of explanation as he pulled up and maximized the fuzzy video from the stair cam. Hands clutching the arms of the chair, Nick watched intently as the video rewound, the staircase flickering on the screen. His eyes widened at a flash of color.

"Wait stop! There!"

The super nodded and the video froze, successfully capturing the horrifying image of a masked figure dragging his partner's prone body up from the ground. The super's eyes bulged at the sight and he immediately started talking a mile a minute but none of it registered over the panic Amaro felt. His movements were robotic as he rewound farther back and watched the entire encounter. He winced as the man grabbed her hair, swallowed bile as he recognized the effects of chloroform. This couldn't be real. It couldn't. His hand rose to cover his mouth as he watched her collapse on the floor.

_Oh god no. Olivia..._

As she was dragged out of view, he turned to the flustered man beside him. His voice was deadly soft. "Where does that hallway lead? Where is he taking her?"

"I—There's an alley. I'll pull up that cam."

As he stepped aside, Nick pulled his phone with shaky hands, immediately dialing Cragen.

He only had one thought as he listened to it ring.

_They had to find her. They had to._


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the kudos and reviews!! This chapter was fun to write for a lot of reasons (Thank god Barba's back; about time!) Feel free to let me know what you think! Enjoy...

"Here's what we know so far."

Amaro had the squad's undivided attention as he pulled up stills from the security cam videos. As his eyes swept over his coworkers, he saw his stress mirrored in their faces. Despite the sense that he wasn't alone, the sight was far from comforting.

"At 3:07 pm today Olivia was blitz attacked in the stairwell of her apartment building. We have the entire confrontation on surveillance video. The perp wore a mask, grabbed her from behind, and very likely used chloroform to s-subdue her." Nick's voice cracked a little. He cleared his throat.

The worry lines on Fin's forehead deepened as Amanda's fists clenched.

Munch stepped forward to continue, "He dragged her to a car waiting in an alley accessible to the ground floor. We have CSU combing both the alley and the stairwell for anything useful but it looks doubtful as of now."

"Did we get a license plate?" The captain's eyes were determined. If Amaro didn't know him so well, he'd never catch the tension in his shoulders that betrayed his real feelings.

"Not on the security cams, but we've pulled every street cam in a 5 block radius. We'll get it."

Fin's voice held a hint of desperation, "Do we have anything on this guy?"

Munch gave him a weird half nod that screamed 'maybe?' "We've got nothing concrete but I think Olivia was onto something with this latest hunch."

Amaro nodded vehemently. "I agree. She got too close so he took her. Hell, if she's right, this guy could've been onto her since she first interviewed him about that rental car."

The captain looked especially contemplative. "Explain."

"Every one of our vics is connected to the same rental car company which leaves us with a small pool of suspects. Of these suspects, the only one who had significant contact with Liv was—" he grabbed a photo off his desk and tacked it out the corkboard with the map from earlier—"Albert Jones who has not answered any of our calls."

Cragen absorbed the information quickly before giving a sharp nod. He turned to Amanda and Fin, "Okay, Fin, Rollins, one of you go through the street cams, the other, go through the security cam videos with fresh eyes. I want that license plate yesterday."

The two detectives nodded before he turned to Amaro and Munch.

"Munch I need you to pull anything we can get on this Albert Jones—"

"Olivia already started that."

The captain bristled at the reminder, "Then finish it! We're going to need to contact Barba and get warrants for Jones' financials and to search his home. Amaro, I want you on that. Call Barba, get the warrant, and then take Fin and Rollins to check Jones's home."

"Yessir."

As the captain dismissed them, and the detectives scattered, Amaro's stomach sank. He'd forgotten about Barba… How the hell was he going to take this?

* * *

In the chaos surrounding the discovery of their fifth victim, Rafael had all but forgotten about how he'd promised to tell Carmen about his date with Olivia. After seeing the look on her face though… He should've known she wouldn't forget.

"I've got work to do Carmen, can't this wait?" he complained feebly, leaning back in his chair with exaggerated exhaustion.

She shook her head, grinning mischievously, "Nope. You forget I know your schedule Rafael," she joked, "Now spill."

Sighing heavily, he leaned forward in his chair letting his elbows rest on his desk. He shot her his most withering glare to no avail. God, she was infuriating. "Fine. It went well."

Carmen rolled her eyes at him, "I believe the promise was 'I won't leave anything out,' Mr. Barba."

"Actually," he pointed at her with a little smirk, "I believe the exact wording was 'I won't leave anything **important** out.' But I'll let it slide this time. It went well enough that we have a date planned for tonight."

She looked thrilled, clapping her hands together with excitement, "I told you it would go well! Did she like the bar? She did, didn't she, I told you it was a good date spot!"

Rafael's eyebrows shot up at her enthusiasm, sensing more questions were sure to come. He braced himself before sighing in relief when his cell went off.

"You don't have to look so relieved you know," Carmen whispered, frowning as he eagerly answered the call, mouthing an unconvincing _I'm sorry!_ to his exasperated assistant.

"Barba speaking." The greeting was met with silence and he pulled the phone back to check the caller ID, confused. _It had said Amaro, hadn't it?_ "Amaro? Are you there?"

"Yeah."

Barba frowned. The man's voice was unnaturally somber and subdued… Something was off. "What's the matter? Is there another vic?"

At the sudden seriousness of his voice, Carmen stood and motioned that she'd be stepping out to give him some privacy. Barba nodded at her distractedly as Amaro answered.

"No. No, it's not that," he paused. "It's Liv."

His confusion only grew as anxiety crept in. "¿Qué pasa, es que ella está bien?" _What happened, is she okay?_

"No. She's been taken."

Rafael's stomach dropped. The heavy silence as he tried to process the news was stifling; his ears were ringing. When he finally spoke, his voice was carefully calm, "Taken," he said, the question in his voice obvious, "How could that happen? I was under the impression she would be at the precinct all day."

Amaro sounded surprised, "How did you know—?" His voice cut off quickly as he caught on to the implications there, "No importa. _Never mind_. She may have cracked our case and was following up with our first vic when she stopped by her apartment to get a file. That's when he grabbed her."

Barba had a death-grip on his phone. "Who Amaro? Who?"

He evaded the question, "We have video but the guy was wearing a mask. He blitz attacked her and used chloroform. Now we don't know for sure—"

The pieces finally clicked together. _Shit_. "But you think it's the fucking Pinky Pervert." Barba spat out the nickname as if it were poison; it tasted like it. He'd had heard enough. "I'm coming over to the precinct. Now." Quickly switching to speakerphone, he started haphazardly gathering his papers, making a mental list of what he needed to grab as Amaro spoke, his chest growing uncomfortably tight. _Are my hands shaking?_

"Good. We're going to need warrants."

Barba's movements stilled, the sentence immediately distracting from the weight that seemed to have settled on his chest, "You have a suspect?!"

"Yes. I'll fill you in when you get here."

"Fine. I'll be there in 15." He paused. "Amaro." His voice was deadly serious.

"What?"

"Don't fuck this up."

Nick said nothing as he hung up.

Maybe it was the small click as he did so or perhaps the ringing silence afterward, but all of a sudden Rafael just—he just couldn't breathe—?

He shook his head. _No. Deep breaths Rafael_. _Pull yourself together. Get your things._

As he pulled on his coat, his eyes landed on the file Olivia had given him four days ago. A photo was sticking out. He started to sweat.

_Barba flipped through the file quickly as they headed towards the courthouse, Benson giving him the latest details on this "Pinky Pervert" succinctly but with clear revulsion, "Each victim was found naked, beaten, missing a pinky"—He tore his eyes from her face, distracted by a flash of color; the jarring nature of the dark red on pale skin grabbed his attention—"We don't know where he's taking them"—his stomach rolled as he realized what he was staring at… A bloody finger socket—"they were drugged, Barba, brutally raped. The torture he put these women through…"_

_The torture she would go through._

His eyes squeezed shut as his knees buckled, his hands instinctually grabbing the edge of his desk at the last moment, catching himself before he collapsed into his chair. _God no. Liv… They had to be wrong._

_He was staring up at the precinct screens watching Olivia's face out of the corner of his eye. Her voice was hard as was her expression—"The vic was posed this time, left along a fairly sheltered part of a popular jogging path, and"—her voice grew ice-cold—"had 'Me: 5, NYPD:0' written on the top of her forearms"—He expected the fury her voice betrayed when their eyes met but all he could see was pain. Why? He wanted to help her. She looked away._

_He couldn't help her._

He couldn't do it. The ringing in his ears was overwhelmingly loud, his heart was pounding in his aching chest, his hands were numb. Was he choking?

_Breathe Rafael!_

The warm taste of old pennies startled him; he had bitten the side of his cheek. As he ran his tongue along the ragged skin, he gasped, finally sucking in a rattled breath. The next breath was easier. _Just breathe._

When he finally peeled himself up from the chair, Barba was drenched with sweat but steady. As he shoved the file into his briefcase, he wiped at the wetness on his cheeks. No doubt he looked like hell, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had a job to do.

He would do whatever it took to get her home.

* * *

_"Liv come on!"_

_The sunset was brilliant. Olivia didn't want to go yet._

_"What are you doing? We have to go."_

_She sighed heavily. It was so peaceful here. She turned to Nick pouting. "Do we have to?"_

_"Well, we can't stay here."_

_She nodded in agreement. "That's true." She missed the sound of the city anyways. "Just give me a sec."_

_The field was vast and flat. There were no buildings to block her view of the sky; there was nothing to block the magnificent sunset that bathed everything in a soft orange glow. The grass grew long and wild and was dancing in the breeze. She closed her eyes and let the wind play with her hair before reluctantly turning to follow Nick. She frowned. Where did he go?_

_"Nick?" She turned back around but he'd disappeared._

_She felt a raindrop on her cheek and looked up to the sky. The clouds were dark but not dark enough to be worried. As she looked back down, Olivia vaguely realized that the wind was whipping her hair around her face now but the grass was still. Odd._

_"Hey, Liv." Her head shot up and her face broke into a smile at his voice. Rafael!_

_"Rafael? What are you doing here? Have you seen Amaro?"_

_He shrugged, giving her that wide grin of his that always disarmed her. "Nope."_

_"That's not very helpful, Rafael," she teased._

_He rolled his eyes at her. "Ah, well, let's not worry about Amaro right now," he approached her, eyes dark with desire. It was sprinkling now._

_Olivia melted into his embrace without a second thought, sighing as their lips met. As he backed her up against a tree, she gripped his suspenders. His hand tangled in her hair as he peppered kisses down her throat causing her to let out a little moan of pleasure. "Rafa…"_

_The sudden loss of heat as he pulled away from her caught her off guard and she cocked her head to the side. "What's the matter?"_

_Rafael pointed over her shoulder._

_Olivia turned. What was he talking about? There were just trees._

_The rain was steady now as she turned back to ask him. "What did you see?"_

_She pushed the wet hair from her face. Where did he go?_

_There was a crack of thunder. "Shit." She needed help. Olivia opened her mouth to call out to Rafael, Nick, anyone. Her voice came out as a small squeak. God her throat hurt. Why couldn't she talk?_

_"Help." It was a pathetic little whisper. "Please."_

_Her eyes scanned the forest desperately and her heart leaped at the sight of a blurred figure to her right. As it walked closer, her throat started to close up and her excitement quickly faded. She knew. If it got her, she'd die._

_She started running through the trees, heart racing before she tripped over a root, falling onto the mulchy forest floor. Her throat was burning, she couldn't breathe. She started twisting, writhing. She had to get up! She had to!_

"Stop moving."

_No, it couldn't be! She'd run so far._

"I said STOP!"

Olivia woke with a sharp cry as his hand connected with her face and pain exploded, radiating out from just below her eye. Gasping, she blinked away tears, opening and closing her jaw to alleviate the pain. Her body froze from shock.

"That's better."

As her vision swam into focus, Olivia vaguely registered her newly seated position, but before she could do anything, Jones took advantage of her stunned state. She barely had time to realize she had one hand free before he grabbed her wrist, forcefully taping it down to what appeared to be the arm of a wooden chair. Olivia shook her head rapidly trying to clear the fog that clouded her mind as she reflexively tugged against the tape on her arms and legs much to Jones's annoyance. Her breath caught in her throat when he shoved the gun under her chin. "Don't even think about it."

She stopped struggling. As he pulled the gun away, she stayed still, the fear having cleared her mind some. All she could see was Jones crouching in front of her with a roll of duct tape in one hand, her gun in the other. His lips were twisted with mocking self-satisfaction at her compliance when he finally stood, relishing the way Olivia's widened eyes darted around the room, taking in as much as she could. She didn't like what she saw.

The musty smell of decay matched the crumbling brick walls and cobwebs lit by a singular fluorescent lightbulb hanging from the wooden rafters. The bright light cast shadows the floor, a slab of gray concrete that hadn't been cleaned in what looked like years. Besides the dead leaves littering the ground, there was also a small wooden table with a couple of paper bags and—Olivia swallowed heavily at the sight—a stained mattress. The only exit she could see other than an old, tiny window was the closed door behind him. As far as she could tell, he had her cornered. Literally. Unless she was mistaken, the chair he had her tied to was in the cramped corner of the small shack. This wasn't good.

Albert watched her examine the room with fascination, "Do you like it detective?" he asked suggestively.

Olivia's temper flared. When she spoke her voice was gravely and sore from when he'd choked her out. She looked him up and down. "I've seen better."

Fury twisted his features as he pressed the barrel of the gun to her forehead hard enough to bruise. Olivia didn't flinch. As the two glared each other down, her defiance grating on his nerves, recognition dawned and he started to laugh, dropping the gun to his side.

"I know what you're doing! I think you want me to kill you," he cocked his head to the side, "Hmm? Why is that Olivia?" His voice dropped to a whisper, "Let me guess… Was it what Katherine told you? Or was it Emily's story? Huh? Was that it?" His face searched hers; Olivia maintained her stony stare, not giving him an inch. "No, not that. Well, it can't be lovely Ms. Sophia's story, she's still in a coma last I checked. Isn't that right, Detective?"

Olivia's eyes flashed as they met his, "Shut. Up."

 _There we go._ He was loving this. "Looks like I hit a nerve! I'm guessing you weren't happy about poor Ms. Susie then. Poor girl, I really didn't mean to kill her but I just got carried away, you know how it is. Or at least you will."

Albert knelt down before her as she avoided his gaze. Any attempt to pull away from him was thwarted as he grasped her chin, forcing her to stare up at him.

Before he could speak, she did. "Can I ask you something?"

Surprise crossed his face followed by curiosity. He let go of her face and nodded, flicking his hand out as if to say _go on_.

"What's with the pinkies?"

A chill ran down her spine at the way the smile slowly spread across his face, "I'm glad you asked," he drawled, "You see, Detective, these women all promised me one thing or another. Like how you promised you wouldn't break," he stopped to point at her with something akin to respect in his gaze, "See, I like that. That's a nice change of pace. Now the others," he shook his head, "The others promised they wouldn't run… But they did. They always do." He paused, cocking his head at her. His eyes ran down the length of her body. "I wonder if you… Hmm… Yes."

She hid her discomfort, "What?" she spat out aggressively.

He continued as if she'd said nothing, "Those women ran. Those women broke their promises, Olivia, and I can't have that." His face darkened, "I've always hated that."

Her eyes followed him as he walked over towards the table to her right. His back was to her as he pulled something out of the bag. His body hid whatever it was. She started to sweat.

Albert whirled around to face her, keeping his hands behind his back. "Do you remember when you were a little girl detective? Did you make pinky promises? I bet you did."

Before Olivia could stop herself she let out a derisive bark of laughter. "You're joking."

Jones looked shocked. "Did you just—?"

"Yeah, I laughed at you."

He looked utterly flabbergasted at her brazenness.

 _Please work._ Olivia gave him a mocking smirk, praying this would throw him off rather than set him off. "What is it, Jones? If the girl breaks her promise, you break her finger? Rip it off if she pisses you off enough?"

She let out another laugh, hoping he missed the edge of hysteria she could feel as her heart pounded. _Come on, do something stupid. Rip off my tape._ The vein in his neck was throbbing. _God, this was risky._ But she had to try.

"What happened Al, did Mommy break her promise to you when you were little? I bet she did. She screwed you and now you screw her and rip pinkies off women."

"DON'T bring my mother into this!" he roared, slamming his hands down on the table. Olivia's heart was in her throat as he left the gun and whatever he'd grabbed there and stalked towards her. He yanked her head back by the hair painfully as she gasped, tears springing up.

His voice was harsh in her ear as he emphasized his words by jerking her head farther and farther back, "You. Will die here. I will rape you. You will beg for death. I will kill you."

A tear ran down her cheek as an involuntary whimper of fear pushed past her defenses; he grinned. "Yes. You should be scared."

He roughly let go of her and she doubled over panting. When she looked up again, he was there staring her down.

"I have something of yours. Well, not yours, I'm guessing."

She could barely whisper, "W-What are you—" she let out a ragged cough, "What are you talking about?"

In response, he pulled his hand out from behind his back and opened it. Laying there on his palm were Rafael's cufflinks.

Olivia could only stare incomprehensively at the metal. _No._ Her heart clenched painfully. She felt like he'd punched her in the gut and it hurt more than anything he'd done so far. _Oh, god, Rafael… I'm so sorry._

Albert watched with delighted fascination as Olivia's face finally crumpled. "Interesting…" He knelt down once more, his hand heavy on her thigh. As he brought the cufflinks up to her eye level, she squeezed her eyes shut.

 _They were both staring up at her bedroom ceiling, her head in the crook of his arm. Rafael was lazily playing with a lock of her hair. "I've wanted this for a while now." Her eyebrows shot up and she twisted to look up at him. "Really?" He was blushing_ —

Albert's hands were creeping higher, "Whose are they, Olivia?" She shook her head rapidly hating it as a tear ran down her cheek

— _"I thought you were a Detective, Benson," he teased, bringing his hand to cup her cheek softly. "Yeah really." She propped herself up on her elbow to stare at him with a grin. "Rafael Barba!" He grinned back at her, adopting the same tone of voice, "Olivia Benson! What?"_ —

"Are they your boyfriends?" he asked, voice dripping with mock sympathy.

— _She shoved his shoulder playfully, "When were you planning on telling me that Mr. Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba was a romantic?" He rolled his eyes at her, cheeks definitely red now, "Never. Show don't tell, I always say." She snorted, "Sure. Uh-huh, definitely. When I think Barba, I think tight-lipped"_ —

"I hope you got to say goodbye."

_She hadn't._

"Because I promise you, you'll never see him again."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay, this chapter just wouldn't cooperate with me at first (I was planning on having more Olivia in this one, but the other detectives demanded my attention which threw me through a loop). As for this chapter: any geography stuff is very loosely based on reality or made up (I don't know New York) and TW: some groping and evil threats. Thank you for all the lovely reviews on that last chapter, I hope this one satisfies! Constructive criticism is welcome, and don't worry, a Barba/Benson reunion is coming soon. I pinky promise ;)

_"Because I promise you, you'll never see him again."_

His hot breath hit her neck as Jones whispered in her ear, the feeling as sinister as his deadly promise. Maybe it was this, or perhaps the threat itself, but any escape to better times became impossible as goosebumps ran along Olivia's crawling skin.

"Don't give me that look," Jones frowned, cocking his head to the side in an attempt to catch her eyes, "It's your own fault, detective. I'd let you live if you weren't a cop."

Her body jolted as his fingers brushed some hair from her neck. He laughed a little as she squeezed her eyes shut, swiftly moving behind the chair and out of view.

"It's a shame, really... You are lovely to look at. Oh well. What to do to you first..."

Olivia could feel the heat of his body pressed against the back of the chair. The sensation only intensified her fear as she braced herself for more chilling details of what was to come. No words came.

As silence fell, she became acutely aware of her harsh breathing, just noticeable over the ringing in her ears. Her breathing and his. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. He was just…breathing. The suspense, the ringing silence: it was almost worse than his words. What was he doing?

Warm hands slid under her shirt.

Olivia's eyes shot open, instinctually flinching away from his unexpected touch to no avail with a small yelp of surprise.

He let out a low chuckle, pressing his lips to her neck softly while his hands roamed. Another whine escaped her throat as his movements became more aggressive. "Oh yeah, do that again." He was grabbing at her roughly, enjoying the way she pulled on the tape attempting to buck away from him. He wouldn't stop talking. "You have an amazing body, Olivia, I can't wait to see it—" she gasped sharply as he pinched her nipple, "—oh no, don't pull away, we're just getting started baby, look at me now. Look at me!"

Goosebumps broke out on her arms at the chill air on her stomach as he pulled his hand out from under her shirt and brought it up to grip her face, twisting it backward as she desperately shook her head until she slipped from his grip and—

"Agh! You bitch!"

Olivia spat on the floor with a fierce glare as he yanked his hands away from her. He emerged from behind the chair, shaking his stinging hand with a furious yet oddly triumphant smirk. Her stomach dropped.

"I can't believe you actually bit me! Not a smart move detective." Shaking his head, Albert walked over to the table and picked up the gun. She instinctively flinched away from him as he dropped to a crouch in front of her; that gleam in his eyes promised pain.

"You'll pay for that."

Olivia swallowed heavily, frozen. Her eyes nervously flicked between his face and the gun.

"Unless…" His voice trailed off and her eyebrows involuntarily crinkled with confusion. He smirked.

Her voice was a rough whisper, "Unless what?"

"Unless you give me a reason not to hurt you, Olivia. Well, a reason not to hurt you much."

 _Oh god._ She did not like the sound of that.

"No? Nothing?" He shook his head with exaggerated disappointment. "Fine. How's this? You can either make this up to me and be a good girl or I can shoot you." He gave a wicked grin as he shrugged, "Your choice."

"You won't shoot me." She sounded more confident than she was.

Albert rolled his eyes with amusement, "Maybe not to kill, yeah. But legs, arms, feet… Those are free game," He shoved the gun between her legs watching her face as her body jolted once more, "Choose, Olivia. I'll rape you either way."

When she gave no response, his face darkened and he reached into his pocket pulling out Rafael's cufflinks for the second time. She kept her eyes trained resolutely over his shoulder ignoring the ache in her chest. "Fine. You make this up to me and I won't leave these in your mouth as a little gift for your boyfriend to find. You thought the others looked bad? They'll be nothing compared to how I leave you."

To her horror, Olivia's voice shook, "N-No. You wouldn't."

"Oh, but I would. So what will it be, Detective? The easy way or the hard way?"

She balked at his words, panic squeezing the air from her lungs. She couldn't deny it anymore: she was trapped. Utterly trapped. _Oh god... Am I going to die here?_

_**No**._

The answer came unbidden, an angry, stubborn, resounding no. An odd mix of grim determination and clarity washed over her as it hit her: _Jones is just another perp._ She'd been thinking like a victim when she needed to be thinking like a detective. A detective who's dealt with hundreds of creeps similar to him in her many years on the job. She could handle this. She just needed to breathe, to find what made Jones tick.

She sucked in a shaky breath.

His face was inches from hers now, the gun against her chest.

"Choose Olivia. The easy way. Or the hard way."

She needed time.

"The easy way."

* * *

Rafael compulsively ran his tongue along the ragged skin of his inner cheek as he leaned against the table, his eyebrows furrowed. While the bite had long stopped bleeding, the sting was still painfully acute. Rafael didn't wince. The pain was a reminder of what was at stake here. He—no, Olivia—couldn't afford for him to break again and he was worryingly close. The drive over had given him the time he needed to pull himself together but the tightness still hadn't left his chest; the fear loomed over him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him at any second.

"Barba."

He startled, vaguely recognizing concerned expressions on Munch and Rollin's faces before turning his head to meet Amaro's sharp glare. Rafael's eyes narrowed. _Amaro._ Where the hell had he been? He was supposed to have her back, to protect her. As Rafael glared back at the man, Amaro bristled, unable to miss the accusatory heat behind the lawyer's angry glower.

Before either man could speak, Munch quickly intervened, sensing the palpable tension between the two. "Barba, Rollins has something to show you." He didn't miss the sharp look Munch set Amaro as he diverted his attention to Rollins.

Rafael shook his anger off, clearing his throat before speaking, "Go ahead."

"Okay, we'll, we got the license plate from the street cams near her apartment pretty quickly," Amanda explained, her voice unnaturally strained, "But we haven't had any luck yet figuring out where he's taking her."

Munch turned to Barba as he spoke, having caught the flicker of panic that had crossed his face at Rollins's words, "That said, Barba, we do have an alarm out on the car and a photo of Liv out to every tool booth in the city. We may not know where he's taking her yet, but we've been tracking them on the street cams out of the city. Hell, Fin's still tracking them as we speak."

"Exactly," Rollins added while Amaro tapped his pencil anxiously against his leg, "As of now, we're fairly certain he's heading towards one of these regions which should help us narrow things down a bit." She pointed over towards the cork board which still had the map from earlier, regions marked based on Melinda's findings from the pollen and dirt samples they'd found on Susie Cutler. "If we could just get a warrant..."

Barba's eyebrows shot up at her vague request, "A warrant, Rollins? For what? For **who**?" he retorted, crossing his arms as he shot her an irritated look, "I thought Amaro said you knew who did this." The detective let out an indignant "Hey!" from behind him as Barba pressed on, "Do we know **anything** about the man who took her?" he exclaimed. He turned to Munch, his voice growing higher as the tightness in chest grew. "Tell me you were at least able to identify the bastard!" It was taking everything in him not to scream, demanding to know how the hell they could've let this happen.

"Calm down, Barba, we were just getting to that," Rollins snapped, walking across the bullpen towards the screen. "The perp kept the ski mask on for several blocks but I just got video of him without it. I didn't recognize him but if his hunch is right, I'm pretty sure Amaro will."

She pulled up the still from the grainy street cam video onto the screen, looking at Nick expectantly as she zoomed in on the driver. Barba's frown deepened as he stared at the unfamiliar man on the screen, rage bubbling in his stomach. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't the only one who was furious; he felt the wave of anger rolling off of Nick just seconds before he heard the sharp snap of a pencil.

"That fucking **bastard**!"

Several heads turned towards him as Nick stalked up to the screen, carelessly tossing the broken remains of the pencil on the floor.

Rollins ignored his anger, looking to him with cautious hope, "You recognize him then? Is that—?"

He cut her off, whirling around to face the others as he pointed at the man, "We were RIGHT THERE! We HAD HIM! No. No...You gotta be fucking kidding me," Nick brought his hand up to his forehead as a bitter laugh burst unwillingly from his lips. "That BASTARD! We actually gave him his own fucking police sketch! HIS OWN FUCKING—!"

"NICK!" Barba had had enough. The detective's mouth dropped open; the shock of Barba using his first name had struck Amaro dumb, "Shut up and tell us. Who. Is it?"

Amaro's gaping mouth settled into an irate scowl that only deepened as he let out a breath through the nose, attempting to calm himself. "That **scum**. Is Albert Jones."

Barba and Munch's voices overlapped, "Who—?" "You were right!"

Rafael swallowed his questions as the sergeant turned to Rollins and Amaro with a newfound purpose. "Rollins, go get your partner and get him up to date—" she nodded and turned immediately, "—and Amaro. Can I trust you to keep your cool? For Olivia?"

Amaro's face was somber as he nodded, his jaw clenched stubbornly.

Munch looked satisfied. "Good. You and Fin will search his apartment then while Rollins and I will get everything we can on the guy; financials, his rental car records, everything. I'll call the captain to update him and send him a photo, he's with 1PP and state police now," he pointed at their still-reeling ADA, "We'll need warrants for that. What do you need Barba?"

The most desperate part of him was still screaming for answers but Rafael pushed his questions down, recognizing that now was not the time. _For Olivia._ He pointed at Nick, "We're thinking he's our Pinky Pervert then?" Both men nodded, "Okay. Get me any records you can on the guy, anything connecting him to the other victims if you can, and a screenshot of that," he pointed at the screen, "and you'll have a warrant by the time you get on the scene, guaranteed."

"Good, now go," Munch said to Amaro who nodded stiffly and stalked off leaving Barba and Munch alone.

A brief but heavy silence fell before the sergeant caught Rafael's eyes. "Barba?"

He eyed him warily. "Yes?"

"I promise I'll fill you in as soon as possible," he said, a knowing look in his eyes. Rafael simply stared back before he gave him a curt nod. The one look confirmed what Olivia had suspected. Munch knew about them.

"Thank you."

Munch waved his thank you away, "Don't. We'll get her back, Barba." He paused. "We have to."

* * *

The hallway was quiet for early evening as Amaro and Fin approached Albert Jones's apartment. Before Fin could knock, Nick put his arm out to stop him, pressing his ear to the door. He pulled away, shaking his head with a frown, "Nothing. There's no way they're here."

Fin shot him a dark look, "I know. Still." He banged his fist on the door. "Albert Jones, NYPD! Open up!"

There was no answer. Fin eyed Nick who nodded, taking his gun from his holster.

Fin banged on the door again. "NYPD! We have a warrant!" Nothing. "Okay. Let's go."

The door flew open with a slam as Nick's shoulder rammed into it, breaking the peaceful quiet of the unassuming living area. As Fin checked the closet, Amaro entered with his back to the wall, scanning the room with his gun drawn. He jerked his head at Fin to follow him before ducking his head around to catch a glimpse of the small kitchen area. As he swept past it into the small hallway, they split up, Fin ducking into one room while Nick checked the other.

"Clear!"

"Clear here too," Amaro said as he joined Fin in the living room, swallowing an unexpected wave of crushing disappointment. _Fuck._ They knew she wasn't going to be here and yet… it hurt. A small, naïve part of him had really hoped this was it. That their search might be over.

Amaro waspishly kicked at the couch as his eyes swept over the apartment, searching for a distraction. At first glance, it was obvious that Albert Jones's apartment was meticulously organized. Besides the shoes lined neatly by the door, the floor was bare. The kitchen counters gleamed and the walls were devoid of anything but decorative and expensive-looking art. Nick wandered into the kitchen where Fin was flipping through a stack of papers.

"Anything?" Amaro asked over his shoulder as he pulled open one of the cupboards.

"Just regular bills and junk mail."

"Damn." Amaro's eyebrows shot up as he turned back to find a highly organized spice cabinet. "Hey look. They're alphabetical," he commented as he opened the neighboring cupboard, "He's even labeled where his dishes go," he added.

"Neat freak. Figures," Fin rolled his eyes as he abandoned the kitchen for the room he'd cleared. Nick took the opportunity to examine the living area.

Unsurprisingly, it was as oddly perfect as the rest of the apartment. The pillows matched the rug, the wooden frame on the couch matched the bookshelves. The only thing missing was photographs. If he hadn't known otherwise, Nick would've thought the apartment was prepped for an apartment showing: it was so... impersonal. As he looked closer he realized that even the books on the shelves were organized by size. He walked over to examine the books, frowning deeply as he read some of the titles.

 _"The Casebook of Forensic Detection_ "

_"Introduction to Forensic Crime Scene Investigation"_

_"The Organic Chemistry of Anesthesia"_

_"Forensic_ —"

"Amaro, you gotta see this."

The tone of Fin's voice only exacerbated Amaro's growing sense of dread as he pulled away from the telling bookshelf.

"What is it?" he asked as he entered the study. Fin was standing near the desk, his face grim, his hands gloved.

"Look."

Fin had opened one of the thick folders laid out on the desk.

"Damn."

Amaro immediately recognized the photocopied driver's license on top of the pile, the page marked with a sticky note that read "Olivia Margaret Benson" in even block letters. His partner stared up at him in black and white, her address carefully highlighted above carefully organized notes. A quick scan confirmed it. Her schedule was lined out in detail; Jones had been stalking her for over a week. Nick's eyes blurred as he pulled gloves from his pocket, slipping them on before he flipped to the next page marked with another sticky note that read "Heather Jane Cline". And the next, "Susan Claire Cutler". He kept flipping. "Sophia Lee Waterhouse", "Emily Renee Hardwick", "Katherine Ann Moss". They were all there.

His chest tightened, suddenly hyper-aware of Fin's eyes on his face. "Well don't just stand here," he snapped, "Check the bathroom for ketamine or chloroform or something."

Fin's lips tightened. "Fine."

Amaro watched him leave before he sucked in a shaky breath as he turned back to the file on the desk.

This... was terrifying. How had they missed this? How had HE missed this? Guilt and dread swirled in his stomach. _God if anything happens..._ Amaro set the file down carefully before pulling out his cell. They'd need to bag everything.

* * *

Rollins stepped back from the corkboard to survey her work with a frown of concentration. She had spent the last hour painstakingly plotting Albert Jones's route out of the city and while she was sure this newest map would be key to locating Olivia, she also knew there were still too many missing variables at play.

The sound of Amanda's heavy sigh caught Munch's attention and consequently so did this newest addition to the board.

"What have you got there Rollins?" Munch asked, standing up to look at the map with a critical eye.

She sighed, "A start. Between Fin and I, we managed to track Jones and Liv through the city before we lost them in the upper Bronx area. Now before you say anything, I think we have enough to narrow down where he's headed."

Munch looked intrigued, "Okay, I'm listening."

"All of the areas that had both the pollen and dirt found on our 4th vic are found more than two to three hours from the city which leaves us with only a couple options of what major roads he could've taken if he wanted to get there in any reasonable amount of time. If you look here," Amanda pointed along a road on the map that split off into four others, one of which was blue, "he only had four options that make sense."

"What do you mean?" he asked, his finger following the route out of Manhattan into the Bronx. "This doesn't narrow anything down, Rollins. There's still too much area to cover."

"Ah, but remember," Rollins countered, "we've got his photo and hers out to every tollbooth in the state. So yes, I've marked all the major roads they could've taken that lead to these areas, but more importantly, I've marked the one road without a single tollbooth. And before you say anything, I've already talked to the highway patrol and they haven't seen any sign of either of them along the other roads. Odds are, he took this one," she pointed at the road in blue, "which gets us down to this one area."

Munch, who had started nodding along to her explanation, looked inspired. "You might be onto something here. And where is this?"

"Forest area up near Utica."

"Wait," Munch looked as if he'd been struck in the face. "Did you say Utica?"

"Yeah, why?" Amanda asked with growing hope as Munch started searching frantically through the many papers spread out on the table.

"I've been looking through his finances and he had something… oh, where is it? I didn't—Ah! Here!" He pulled out a file full of receipts and handed them to Rollins who started flipping through with interest. "I've been tracking his spending and, more specifically, **where** he was spending." He peered over her shoulder as she flipped through, "If I remember correctly, I think it was over a month ago—Yes! Those ones!"

Amanda's eyes were narrowed as she studied the receipts. "It looks like he stayed at a hotel for about a week. But look. If he's staying at a hotel, why the hell is he buying nails and hand tools? And plywood?"

Munch was already pulling his phone out to call Fin and Amaro, "He had to have been fixing up wherever he takes his victims."

"Don't call her that."

Their heads whipped around to find Barba standing there briefcase in hand, his eyes flashing. Guilt squirmed in Munch's stomach as he took in the thinly-veiled pain in the lawyer's eyes; he hadn't expected him back so soon. Rafael had ducked out for a while to update his bosses, but apparently, it hadn't taken long.

"Barba, I wasn't saying—"

Rafael cut him off, his jaw still clenched, "Don't. Forget it. Make your call."

Munch gave him a searching look before he complied, dialing Amaro as he walked towards someplace quieter.

Amanda's voice was annoying placating as she reasoned with him, "We've narrowed down a possible location to about 20-30 square miles, Barba. We'll find her." His expression remained unchanged as she faltered under his scowl. "We're going to keep combing through his life, through everything. We'll find her," she repeated. Even she could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

Their awkward silence was broken as Munch came back, a grin on his face. "We've got him now!"

Anxious hope stole Rafael's breath as Amanda spoke, "What is it?"

"Amaro and Fin... They found maps. And one of them matches yours."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll start off by saying that I apologize for NOTHING! Okay fine, I apologize for the cliffhanger. Kinda. 
> 
> As a warning, this is a very Olivia and Jones heavy chapter but I think people will like it. Olivia is such a badass. Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed, given kudos, subscribed, etc., you guys are the best! TW: Violence and discussions of rape.

_"The easy way or the hard way?"_

_"The easy way."_

The cold fury that had taken over Albert's face melted into a wide, sinister smile at her words but Olivia barely noticed; her mind was going a mile a minute, grasping for straws, for anything she could use to throw him off. _Think Olivia! Think!_

Unfortunately, this meant she was unprepared as he pushed the hair back from her face. Somehow she held her ground, barely flinching as she physically bit her tongue to keep from groaning aloud.

"I like the easy way. I knew we'd get here eventually, Olivia." He looked revoltingly smug. "But then again, so did you. I mean you had to know this was coming when you woke up in my car. Right?" He cocked his head at her expectantly.

She said nothing. He was wrong. Denial had been her friend in that car.

His eyes searched her face as he frowned, "Hmm… Guess not." His voice dripped with insincere pity, "Sorry about that, Olivia. False hope's a bitch, huh?" A mocking pout twisted his face. He paused just taking her in before suddenly clapping his hands together with excitement, "Alright! Enough talk. Let's get this party started, Detective!"

Her eyes widened with alarm as he turned around to the bag on the table, panic taking over as she frantically pulled on her restraints. The tape held strong; it was clearly too thick around her wrists and ankles to break. As he turned back to face her she froze, her eyes immediately drawn to the knife in his hand which glinted threateningly under the fluorescent lighting.

Sweat began to pour down her back as she looked up at him with confusion, "W-What, no, I said the easy way!"

Jones rolled his eyes at her before looking down to admire the blade as he turned it over in his hands, "You did, didn't you…?"

He moved quickly. Too quickly. Before she could comprehend it, the cold metal was against her throat and Olivia's heart was about to fail. She didn't dare breathe.

"The next time you **bite me** ," he hissed in her ear as he applied more pressure, the blade close, too close, to her jugular, "I won't hesitate." He didn't immediately pull the knife away, letting the words sink in as he watched her struggle to breathe.

Her heart was in her throat, her eyes tearing up as a small voice broke through the haze of panic in her mind. _He's bluffing. He didn't use a knife on the others._

_The others…_

Satisfied by the fear in her eyes, Jones pulled the metal away from her neck. Olivia immediately doubled over gasping for air. She was still panting when the question burst out of her before she could stop herself, "Why—" her voice cut off as she sucked in a breath, "Why didn't you drug me?"

Albert's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?"

She sat back up her face flushed, "Why didn't you drug me? The others... you drugged them. Ketamine, right?"

He couldn't seem to stop himself as he answered, eager to set her straight, "Would you accept a drink from a stranger, Detective Benson?" he asked, emphasizing her title with a scornful eye-roll. He took her silence as an answer, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

Olivia schooled her expression, hiding her confusion. _Even then, if he wanted to drug me, he'd find a way…_ This just didn't add up.

"Besides," he added, "little Heather proved chloroform would do fine."

She couldn't hide her surprise. He didn't use ketamine on their latest vic? And the way he'd said that… Heather proved chloroform would do fine? The implications there were chilling. Had he been **preparing** for her?

"But why—?"

"But whyyy?" he mocked, his voice high and obnoxious, real irritation showing on his face, "Shut up, Olivia."

She knew she should listen but if she could just figure out why… A hint of desperation crept into her voice, "I just—!"

Jones's eyes flashed as his temper flared, "Enough! Stop stalling. You can't stop this."

He dropped to a crouch before her as they locked eyes. His expression was unlike any he'd had before; his eyes were dead and cold with none of the mocking humor she'd grown to expect. The effect was unnerving, sending a shiver down her spine.

His voice was low and quiet, "When I cut you out of this chair, you will do what I say, when I say it. Got it?"

Olivia swallowed heavily as she nodded. He kept his eyes on her face for a beat before a smirk slowly spread across his face. "Good."

The sound of the duct tape ripping broke the heavy silence as he slashed the knife through the bonds around her left ankle. He eyed her, daring her to move. She didn't. His grin grew as he repeated the process on her right ankle. Before she could stop to think, instinct had her jerking backward as he brought the knife towards her forearm.

"I wouldn't do that…" His voice was light and filled with amusement, "You'll want to hold still for this, Olivia. I'd hate to accidentally slip and slit your wrists."

She froze. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the arms of the chair; she couldn't help but squeeze her eyes shut, biting her lip as he sliced through the duct tape taping her wrists down in two swift movements. Her eyes shot open moments later as he ripped the tape off her bare arms. Despite the pain, she didn't make a noise as she fought back the tears prickling in her eyes.

This was it. Olivia was free.

From the chair at least. Jones rose slowly from his crouching position until he was looming above her. His eyes shone with a malicious curiosity that dared her to make a move, a look that despite her paralyzing fear, grated on her nerves. They waged a silent war, her eyes narrowing, flicking down to the knife in his hand. A small voice of reason broke over her anger, _Don't._ Realization hit her hard. _Compliance. He gets off on compliance. Give him what he wants._

She swallowed her pride and allowed her expression to grow despondent before dropping her head to her chest. It was the right move.

"Finally!" He slammed the knife onto the table with a grin as she jumped, "That's more like it!" He sounded disgustedly triumphant, "See, I knew you had it in you, Detective. Now," his eyes grew dark as he picked the gun up from the table and pointed it at her, "Get up."

All she saw was the gun. _Oh god._ This was really happening. A dizzying combination of fear and naive disbelief kept her rooted to the spot before Olivia tore her eyes from the weapon in his hand to desperately scan the room, searching for an escape she knew wasn't there. She was trapped: a table and a dangerous serial rapist with a gun stood between her and the only exit.

Barely concealed anger crept into Albert's voice, "I'm not going to ask you again, Olivia."

"Okay," Olivia's voice shook as she rose slowly from the chair with her hands held up in surrender, "Okay, let's not—"

His eyes gleamed as he cut her off, "Shut up. You're done talking."

 _Shit._ Every one of her muscles tensed as his eyes lazily wandered down her body. Her skin was crawling even as she turned her head in a pitiful attempt to hide her discomfort. Her instincts were screaming at her to run, to do something: terrible anticipation gnawed at her stomach. Somehow, the most rational part of her once again whispered at her. _Wait for it. Not yet._

His voice was soft, "Oh, wow... Just look at you."

Bile rose in the back of her throat. _Ignore it. Focus._

"See **this** ," he motioned at her frozen body with the gun, "oh god, **this** is why I couldn't drug you, Olivia. Where's the fun in that?" He slowly approached her as he continued, "The others, ah they were fine but there's something to be said for actually making you do what I say. Weepy and fucked up got boring real quick."

She pushed her disgust aside as she watched his approach, carefully noting his height and build, weighing it against her stiff limbs and aching head. It would be a fair fight—well, as fair as it could be. _I can take him. An opening, all I need is an opening._

He was standing in front of her now, an arms-length away. He paused, his head cocked to the side as he examined her face with a small smile. "But this... This is going to be good. Take off your clothes."

She balked at his words, just staring back at him with shocked disbelief. His grin grew.

He shrugged at her stunned silence, "Or I can. Your choice."

_An opening._

"You do it."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Excuse me?"

_He wants complicit? I'll give him complicit._

"I will not take my clothes off for you. I won't." She swallowed heavily but held her ground as fury crossed his features, his eye twitching, his jaw clenching, his grip on the gun tightening. "I won't."

"Really detective?" His voice was dangerously low and incredulous, "Do we really need to have this conversation again?"

It was coming soon, she could feel it; his composure was slipping. _Just a little more._ She squared her jaw, defiance written all over her face, "I don't care. I won't be complicit."

"Wrong answer."

_Now._

Years of experience kicked in as his muscles tensed. Olivia ducked just in time to feel the rush of air as his fist clutching the gun whipped violently over her head. It missed her by an inch. Jones seemed to have forgotten the gun in his anger or perhaps shooting her had never been on the table but Olivia didn't care as she rammed her elbow into his side. Unfortunately for her, he remained steadfast and managed to grab her by the collar of her shirt. He let out a snarl of rage as he yanked her towards him but it quickly devolved into a howl of pain as she managed to clip his chin, snapping his head back. He reflexively let go of her and before he could recover his balance, Olivia slammed into him, letting gravity do the rest. To her incredible relief, he went crashing into the table behind him. She heard rather than saw the gun in his hand fell to the floor with a dull metallic thunk against the concrete as she bolted towards the door. She even didn't wait for her eyes to adjust as she plunged into the night.

The last thing she heard before the door closed was the sound of his demented laugh.

* * *

"Very funny Rollins," Barba snapped, "I'm coming. You can't stop me." His face was thunderous as he glared at the detective. She obviously didn't know who she was dealing with. Over his dead body was he staying behind.

Amanda gave him a sympathetic grimace as she grabbed her jacket and phone from her desk, "Barba be realistic—"

"I'll follow you," he warned. Her eyebrows shot up, disbelief all over her face. His scowl grew deeper. "I'm serious Rollins."

"Barba you're not a—"

"Not a what?" he asked. "A cop? Wow, I had no idea."

She shot him a look, "Look, that's not helping—"

Barba threw his hands up in exacerbation, "Neither is me staying here!"

"But—"

"Just let him go, Amanda." They both jumped at his voice, turning to find Munch standing there. Relief washed over Rafael with an intensity that stole his breath. Barba could've kissed the man.

"Are you sure?" Rollins asked skeptically.

"Yes." His tone left no room for argument. On second thought he turned to Rafael, "Just don't get in the way, Barba," he added.

"Of course." He'd get in the fucking trunk if it meant he could be there for Olivia.

It was Munch's turn to look desperate, "And keep me updated. Please. The captain needs me here to run things."

"I will." The two men nodded at each other before Barba turned to Amanda. "Rollins?"

She'd been watching the interaction with curiosity. "Fine. I'll get you a vest."

Rafael gave her a significant look, "Thank you."

Amanda waved it away, "It's fine. Let's just get her back."

"We will." _They had to._

"Yeah… We will."

* * *

Jones picked himself and the gun up from the floor with a small grunt of pain. Oh, Olivia was good. He had to give her that. As he took in the mess she'd made, he scowled. His body had knocked the table over sending everything on it flying. Might as well clean up first. Let her think he'd been knocked out or something.

 _She almost did knock you out,_ his bruised ego was quick to remind him. His scowl deepened. It was true. She'd almost knocked him out. She'd fucking humiliated him. His anger flared. _You know what? This mess can wait_. He wanted her now.

 _Where's that damn flashlight—"_ Agh!"

As he bent down to pick it up, another groan of pain slipped out. He wasn't sure what hurt more, the fact he'd have a nasty bruise or the fact he let that happen in the first place.

He should've known… Baiting him like that had been clever of her. Running, however… Idiotic. He knew the area. If he didn't kill her, the forest would. The rocky area was treacherous to navigate even in daylight let alone in the black of night.

Not that he wanted to kill her of course. What he'd told her was true. He didn't mean to kill the others, really. He just… saw red. He didn't **want** to kill her but if he was being honest… With the rage currently bubbling away in his stomach, Olivia Benson had no chance of survival. Oh well.

He opened the door, breathing in the brisk air before flipping the flashlight on. As the lines of trees before him were illuminated, he smirked, setting off into the night with a cold sense of purpose.

* * *

Now Rafael knew why Amaro complained about riding with Rollins. Even for driving with the lights on, she went fast. Not that he could complain too much about that under the circumstances.

"How close are we?" he asked her, compulsively checking his watch.

"I swear to god, Barba, I'm going to kill you," Amanda's shoulders were to her ears; Rafael's anxious interrogation on the drive down had only rubbed off on her, leaving her stomach in knots.

He was unfazed. "Well?" he prompted.

"About an hour."

He fell silent as his eyelids closed. Amanda watched out the corner of her eye as he seemed to be taking deep breaths. Barba was barely keeping it together.

An hour. The things that can happen in an hour... _Why did it have to be so long?_ _We're coming Liv. We're coming._

* * *

No matter how much he wanted to, Jones just couldn't even be annoyed at how long this was taking. The anticipation, the hunt, imagining her hiding scared was intoxicating. He'd tracked down her trail with ease but she'd managed to make it farther than he expected. No matter though. He was close, he could feel it. The terrain was getting rougher and more difficult. She couldn't have made it much farther than here.

The light of the flashlight on the dark trees cast huge shadows along the forest floor but Albert could see fairly well as he crept along through the trees. The ground was starting slope downwards; he swept the flashlight along the ground. It wouldn't do to slip on the slick pine needles or small rocks after all. _Jesus Christ where is she?_ He paused as he leaned against a tree, running his hand along his bruised side. The pain and his impatience were officially starting to sour his mood.

"Agh!"

His head jerked to the right. There! That was her! Giddy excitement flooded through his body as he stalked towards the noise. He could hear her trying to stifle groans of pain as he pointed the flashlight down the slope until—"A-ha!"

Olivia was sat in the dirt swaying and clutching her head with an expression of acute pain on her face. He began the climb down, watching with delight and amusement as she struggled to stand, her skin unusually pale. When her body finally collapsed just over a foot away from him, he let out a bark of laughter. Oh yeah. She wasn't getting anywhere soon. And—Oh, gross. His nose wrinkled with disgust as she violently threw up. The delicious rush of power as he dragged her up from the ground more than made up for it, however. He prodded the wound on the back of her head. It was bleeding heavily but it didn't look fatal. The sound of her little cry of pain sent lust surging downwards as he addressed her smugly.

"You really did a number on yourself, Detective Benson," he mocked, "I did tell you not to run."

To his surprise she spoke, her words surprisingly clear and sarcastic, "Yeah well, can you blame me?"

His smirk grew wider. _I knew I chose her for a reason_. "Ha! No, I can't say I can. You know," he said conversationally, "I was worried about switching things up with you, but I think I like you mouthy."

"You're welcome then."

He started dragging her back up the slope, eyeing her suspiciously. "You really did hit your head hard, huh Detective?"

The feeling of her struggling against him only excited him as he yanked her up the slope. By the time he reached the top, she was out cold. His lips twisted into a smirk. One last hike and she was his.

When he finally exited the trees thirty-odd minutes later, Olivia was still out cold and he was panting and swearing but buzzing with the sweet combination of lust and anticipation. Unfortunately for him, however, in his excitement, he missed the far-off sound of tires on gravel...


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I apologize for how long it took to update. With election stuff and classes, I didn't have the time nor energy to write. But I'm back now! Thank you again to everyone who commented or left kudos on that last chapter, I know that cliffhanger was cruel. I hope y'all enjoy this next chapter. More to come soon! :) TW: Violence

The moon hung over the line of trees, bathing the forest in a silver light that bleached all it touched. To an outsider, the shadowy scene could've been serene but to Amaro, it only intensified the growing fear gnawing at his insides. A shiver that had nothing to do with the chill night air ran down his spine. He didn't know much about the woods but these trees seemed… unnaturally still.

The sound of the driver's side door closing was a welcome distraction. He cleared his throat before turning to Fin. "News?"

The man nodded, his eyes scanning the trees with narrowed eyes, "That was the captain. He's just behind us with state police. He wants us to wait for backup before we move."

Amaro frowned, "How long should that take?"

"Not sure but it shouldn't be long now." Fin sounded about as happy as Nick felt.

"I don't like this, Fin. Olivia could be out here right now."

Fin shot him a look. "You don't think I know that? I hate this as much as you do Amaro but Liv can't afford for us to fuck this up."

"I'm not saying—Look, I just don't want to—" Amaro's eyes widened as his voice cut off, staring over Fin's shoulder.

"What is it?!" Fin's heart was in his throat as he whipped his head around only to see a blinding light through the trees that cast huge shadows on the ground. As it grew brighter, the men heard the crunch of wheels on rocky dirt. Not Olivia then. The surge of adrenaline faded leaving behind a confusing mix of crushing disappointment and relief. It must be their backup.

As the car drew closer, Fin's anxiety flared. What the hell were they thinking? If Jones was out here and saw the lights… "Are you kidding me?!" he seethed to Amaro, "Turn off the damn lights!"

Their panicked annoyance only grew as a second pair of lights joined the first but by the third, Nick was grabbing for his radio. "Lights off as you approach, lights off!"

Relief flooded through them as the forest was plunged once again into darkness and the lights shut off one by one.

"Idiots."

Amaro tactfully chose to ignore the comment despite silently agreeing as the squad cars parked, all state police by the looks of them. He checked his watch, still blinking the light spots from his vision. "Where's Rollins?"

"You've seen her drive, she'll be here soon."

As the state troopers started towards them, the two men gave stiff nods of greeting, waiting for their captain. They didn't have to wait long. The familiar voice of their captain broke over the sound of boots on gravel.

"Fin, Amaro," Cragen called out as he jogged toward them, "So I take it Rollins isn't here yet?" He didn't wait for an answer before he pressed on, "We've got some more coming, any sign of Olivia?"

They shook their heads. "We just got here, cap, there's been nothing so far. We need to be cautious though," Fin said somberly, "I read some of his... recounts on the way up," his face twisted with disgust, "He lets his vics escape so he can track them down, hunt them. They could be out here right now."

Cragen's eyebrows furrowed. "Damn. We need to go now then." He turned to the other officers who were at the ready, their faces serious and attentive.

"Okay listen up folks. We've got a lot of ground to cover here and not much time to do it so everyone needs to be on their game. Our target, Albert Jones, knows the area; you don't. I don't have to tell you to watch your six. Amaro, what do we know?"

He was quick to answer. "We'll be primarily looking for a shack but Jones thrives off the chase; they could be anywhere in these woods. Jones is known to be armed with at least Detective Benson's service weapon but likely has more on him."

"Needless to say then, everyone will be wearing their vest. If you find the shack, call it in immediately," the captain added. "We'll need to set up a perimeter—"

Crunching gravel cut him off. Every head turned towards the far off sound, several people reaching for their weapons before the sound became obvious. Another car. Based on its rapid approach, the detectives were quick to guess at who was driving.

"That'll be Rollins," Fin said to Amaro under his breath who nodded before turning his attention back to his captain who'd continued speaking.

"We'll be sticking in groups of two for now. Stay on channel one, **but** ," he emphasized, "Keep your radios quiet! Stealth is imperative here. We can't afford for him to panic and do anything rash. If you find Albert Jones, do not engage," the captain stressed, "Play it safe and call for back up. This man is volatile and will not hesitate to kill Detective Benson if he knows he's cornered."

The reminder squeezed the breath from Amaro's lungs before the sound of a car door slamming drew his attention. To Nick's equal relief and surprise, not only was Amanda there but Barba was as well. Who'd cleared that?

"We **will** bring Detective Benson back safely." The captain paused, turning as they were joined by Rollins who'd jogged over leaving Barba still standing by the car, his worried expression hidden in the shadows.

The captain nodded his greeting before pointing at his detectives. "Fin, Amaro, Rollins, I want the three of you to follow this path see where it leads. With luck, it'll head straight to the shack. The rest of you I want to fan out, check the woods. Remember, stick together, and use your GPS if you get lost. I'll be here for now directing people as they come and generally running things from here. Sound good?" Everyone nodded their agreement. "Okay then. Vests on and head out."

As policemen scattered, the captain turned to Amanda, "Rollins, a word?"

"Yes, cap?"

"Barba's here?"

"He insisted and Munch okayed it."

The captain's forehead crinkled with confusion before he shook it off. "Okay then. Go. Bring her home."

"We will. We will."

* * *

Their eyes had adjusted to the night now as they worked together seamlessly, quietly making their way down the lane. Amaro watched from his position as Rollins crept along, her gun cocked and at the ready before slipping behind a tree. After a second, she was waving them along.

All he could hear was the sound of boots on rock, occasionally the crunch of a leaf underfoot, and his breathing, sharp and stilted. The moon was still as bright as ever, illuminating the small path before them as he and Fin snuck along the parallel tree lines, passing Rollins. As they made their way along the bend, Amaro froze and stuck his hand out to the others, halting their motion.

There it was.

Besides the light that poured from a small window of the dilapidated shack, the building stood quiet and dark. The small crackle of his radio as Fin called it in told him the others had seen it too as they made their way to each other. One look between them said it all. They couldn't wait for backup.

"Circle around?" Fin asked. Amaro nodded.

"I'll cover the window," Rollins said, "Try and get a vantage point. If they're there—"

"I'll get the door," Amaro said.

"And I'll cover you," Fin added.

The three exchanged significant looks before Fin spoke. "Okay then. Let's go."

* * *

Olivia was having trouble opening her eyes. Her eyelids felt fused together and heavy and it didn't help that any attempt to pry them open caused her head to throb for some reason. God, her head hurt. _What… **happened**? And—Oh god. _Her stomach rolled. She couldn't think past the sour taste in her mouth and the sweat on her back but somehow she knew… She knew she couldn't make a sound. It was instinctual; she didn't need a clear head to know something was wrong. It had to be. She didn't dare move.

Speaking of… Someone was moving around her. Was that…? Yes. Footsteps back and forth. Pacing. Someone was pacing.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!"

Oh fuck. She recognized that panicked voice. Al something.

"Olivia…"

It all came flooding back. The feeling of his hands in her hair, the rag on her face. Albert Jones.

"Wake up…"

Oh god, the chair, running through the trees, tripping and scrambling to get back up and away from that shack. The shack with the mattress she was currently laying on.

"Olivia." His voice was closer now.

She didn't move.

A hand roughly shoved her shoulder aside. She swallowed her groan as pain split her head and a wave of nausea twisted her stomach.

"Wake up goddamnit!"

Her breath caught in her throat as she sensed him leaning over her.

"Oh, you little bitch," he breathed as she swallowed the lump in her throat. She couldn't help but recoil. "Have long have you been awake?"

Eyes. Open them.

"Answer me!"

"Agh!" Her eyes shot open in pain and surprise as his fingers dug into the back of her skull. The pain radiated out from the spot like a tidal wave and overcame her.

"There we are…" His face slowly came into focus as she blinked back tears. "Hi. Thought I lost you for a sec there."

"No…" Her voice came out in a small whimper as she squeezed her eyes shut, curling into herself.

A small chuckle escaped his throat as he climbed onto the bed, straddling her waist. A panicked whine escaped her throat. She couldn't move. Why couldn't she move?!

His voice was sickeningly smug as he ran his hands along her sides, "I knew we'd get here eventually. Let's get started, shall—What was that?"

She recognized the change in tone before the words registered. Her thoughts were too slow for this. Was he playing a trick on her? "Wha—?"

"Shut up!"

She pried her eyes open as she felt rather than saw him climb off her, heading towards the small window across the room. As she attempted to watch him, it hit her how badly the fog in her mind was clouding her vision too. Everything was blurry and a gray haze stole her peripheral. She blinked slowly. All she could see was the concrete littered with junk and a table on its side. Her eyes lazily scanned the floor, searching for… for what? She didn't know. Nothing was focusing. As Jones shifted at his spot near the window, a flash of metal caught her attention. The knife. Her eyes widened and her vision tunneled in on the small weapon. It was right there. On the floor. Her eyes flicked over toward Jones. He wasn't looking. If she could just grab it… Tears streamed down her face as she stretched her arm out towards the blade, straining, slipping. The tips of her fingers brushed against the handle. _Hurry, oh god, hurry up!_

"What are you—? Hey, stop that!"

Her body hung over the side of the bed; she could feel blood dripping into her hair from her wound. But she got it. Did he see her? Oh god, please say he didn't.

"Where are you going detective?" he asked, his voice dripping with barely concealed rage as he stalked towards her. "You don't get to move—" He was bending towards her now. Oh god, he didn't know, "—unless I tell you to—" His hands wrapped around her waist. _Now Olivia. Before he sees,_ "You just had to—!"

Everything went white as adrenaline coursed through her blood, giving her the strength she needed to swing her arm wildly. She only vaguely registered the sickening _schunk!_ of the knife penetrating skin before an agonized scream tore from his throat. She scrambled away on all fours like a crab only to watch incomprehensively as blood poured from his neck. Jones's eyes were wide with shock as he sunk to his knees beside the mattress, his hands clawing at his throat before he yanked the blade out. The knife fell to the floor with a clatter. His speech was garbled as he stared at her, eyes wide, "W-What did you—?"

The door slammed open and Olivia screamed.

* * *

Amanda's heart had never beaten this fast. She could hear the bastard pacing and swearing from her position beside the open window.

Jones's voice rang out, soft and mocking, "Olivia… Wake up."

Wake up? Oh god, what had he done to her? She needed to see.

"Olivia."

Amanda locked eyes with Fin who nodded slowly. She didn't dare to breathe as she moved her head slowly to stare into the room. The shack was a mess. A table overturned, various items strewn across the floor, a chair with duct tape. Olivia lying on a mattress with Jones looming over her…

"Answer me!"

Albert moved suddenly before Olivia's scream tore through the detectives like a knife, Amanda's face contorting with grief while rage twisted Fin's. Before she could stop to think, Amanda's shaky hand was raising her gun as she thought of nothing but shooting the bastard in the back before he could make Olivia scream again. She would make him pay.

"Don't!" Fin hissed as his hand clamped down on her wrist causing her to jump and lose her footing. She caught herself just in time but not before accidentally bumping into the wall.

"What was that?"

Amanda's stomach dropped. _No. No, no, no, no!_ What had she done?! Amanda immediately flattened herself against the wall as she heard his footsteps drawing closer, terror for Olivia coursing through her veins. If she fucking blew this…

"Wha—?"

"Shut up!"

His voice was so close, too close. She held her breath, listening to the man mumbling to himself until—

"What are you—? Hey, stop that!"

The barely concealed fury in the man's voice had Amanda's eyes widening. Her gaze met Fin's who stared back with equal urgency. Now. They had to go NOW. They moved as quickly as they dared to where Amaro was waiting by the door, his gun drawn. Fin spoke in a harsh whisper, "We need to—"

A muffled, guttural scream cut him off. Amanda was the first to react, pulling her radio out while she screamed at the two men before her, "Go, go, go!"

Amaro burst through the door, Fin on his heels with his gun drawn. The bright lights after the black of night had Nick blinking rapidly as Olivia shrieked before he heard the rasping, wet wheeze of Albert Jones who slumped over onto the floor, choking, drowning in his own blood as it poured from his throat.

"I've got him!" Fin shouted at Amaro as he stood above Jones his gun trained on his head, "Go, check on Liv!"

Despite the adrenaline coursing through him and the obvious fact that he had no idea what Olivia had gone through, Nick felt incredible, overwhelming relief as he turned to his partner. Olivia was alive. She was ALIVE.

The closer he got to her, however, the more his relief faded to worry. The sight of his partner wincing and gasping for breath as she cringed away from him was terrifying but it was the way her eyes couldn't seem to focus that scared him most.

"Liv? It's me, it's Nick."

She didn't react. Shit.

"Amanda, call a bus!" he tossed over his shoulder causing Olivia to wince heavily. "Olivia?"

She blinked slowly as recognition flicked across her face. "N-Nick? Is that—whada hell happened?"

Amaro's stomach dropped at her slurred speech. That wasn't good. He swallowed his fear as he looked at her reassuringly. Her eyes were still unfocused. "You're safe now Liv, I promise."

The fight was starting to drain from her body; Olivia began to slump forward. "Where's Rafa? Rafa..."

"Rafa? Oh. Barba. He's here—Hey, no!" Amaro immediately lunged forwards as she collapsed, catching her under the arms. As her head flopped onto his shoulder, his eyes widened at the blood coating the back of her skull, matting her hair, and painting the back of her neck crimson. "Liv! Stay with me!"

She mumbled something against the strap of his vest before her body went limp.

Amaro's panic peaked as he slowly leaned forward, setting her gently on the mattress, careful to support her neck. "God Fin, where's that bus? Where's the damn bus?!"

"It's on the way now, Nick. It's on the way."

Amaro nodded frantically as he placed fingers against Olivia's neck. Thank god. Her pulse was still strong. "Please tell me he's dead."

"He's dead," Fin said, sounding grimly satisfied. "Olivia got him in the throat."

"Good. Where's Amanda?"

"She's—"

"MOVE ROLLINS!" Amaro's eyebrows shot up at the sudden outburst from outside.

Amanda's voice was shrill but firm, "Barba, I can't let you—"

"NO! MOVE!"

"Barba, listen to me—Hey!"

Rafael burst into the shack, Rollins hot on his heels. His cheeks were bright red and he was breathing hard. His eyes flicked around the room, briefly taking in the sight of Jones's dead body before he spotted her. His face crumpled and tears spilled down his cheeks, "Oh, god, Liv!"

Before he could move, Fin stepped in his way, his hands up. "Barba, stop. She got a nasty blow to the head."

"She's—She's not…?"

"No. No, she's alive."

Rafael's hands were shaking as he brought them to cover his mouth. He seemed to have been robbed of the ability to speak as he blinked rapidly.

"Where's that bus, Rollins?" Amaro repeated as he watched Olivia's eyelids flutter.

"It'll be here any minute now. Any minute."

All eyes were on Olivia as they waited in silence, their only comfort being the steady rise and fall of her chest. As they stood there mutely, Rafael began to do something he hadn't done in years: pray. If she didn't make it... No. She had to.

She just had to.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional, just work with me. Any medical stuff is vaguely based on SVU or made up for the purpose of plot! Nothing is too unrealistic I think... By the way, I apologize for the late update, I ended up needing to go to the emergency room this weekend so yeah, I didn't get much of a chance to write. But we're good now! I hope this chapter is satisfactory, I tried something a little different but nothing drastic that I think will prove effective. As always, feel free to let me know, thank you for reading and sticking with this story. Any and all feedback is welcome! Enjoy...

The way Rafael saw it, there was no place worse than a waiting room. Except maybe an emergency waiting room. Filled with anxious cops.

If he'd had room for any other emotion but fear, Rafael would've almost felt sorry for the confused civilians in the room. The tension in the room was palpable, made evident by the gawking stares and unusual quiet that had fallen the second the squad had arrived just minutes after him. The uncomfortable quiet was the worst of it, only exacerbating the anxiety bubbling away at his stomach. He almost wished Amaro was still pumping him for information but he was over by Rollins, his head in his hands. His heart clenched painfully at the sight. _Shit._ He knew that feeling. His chest was uncomfortably tight again. A small, more rational part of him recognized that if he didn't find something else to distract him and soon, he'd be facing another panic attack like the one he'd had in his office those long few hours ago. And that couldn't happen. Olivia needed him.

Rafael's eyes desperately flicked around the room, searching for a distraction, for anything to get him out of his head. _Fuck._ He couldn't pick something to focus on. There were just too many options, too many noises. As his eyes blurred, the relative quiet became louder; the far off beeping of some machine, anxious whispering, the static of police radios, the occasional racking cough, everything grew to a dull roar in his ears. _Keep it together._ The tautness in his chest intensified and he blinked rapidly, attempting a deep breath. The smell of filtered air laced with hand sanitizer assaulted his senses as his eyes finally focused and landed on the one thing he'd been trying to avoid. His hands... his hands red and stiff with Olivia's dried blood.

* * *

_The red and blue lights of the ambulance were blinding but conveniently illuminated the door to the shack. Rafael couldn't look away as he anxiously wrung his hands, his fear blocking out everything. The paramedics had gone in—he tore his eyes from the door to glance at his watch—7 minutes ago! What was taking so long?!_

_"Barba?"_

_"What." His response was automatic and harsh as he continued to stare at the shack, unmoving. He saw Amanda cock her head to the side impatiently out of the corners of his eyes._

_"Barba."_

_Anger flared in his stomach, sharp and hot as he whipped his head around to glare at the detective. "What, Rollins? What? Spit it out!"_

_Amanda's eyes closed briefly as she sucked in a deep breath. She appeared to be counting to ten. "I thought you'd want to a part of this conversation."_

_That caught his attention. He turned with great reluctance towards the rest of her squad who were all standing together a couple of paces behind him. As Rafael joined them he scanned their faces. Amaro was still as pale as ever and Fin's eyes were heavy like he'd never seen them but it was Captain Cragen's expression that caused him to swallow heavily. The man had never looked older than in that moment. He greeted Barba with a nod before addressing them all._

_"Who's riding with Olivia?"_

_"I am." The words had barely left the captain's mouth before he spoke, Barba's words sharp and leaving no room for argument. His face was thunderous as he stared each of them down, daring anyone to disagree with him. "I'll ride with her."_

_After a beat, Cragen looked towards his detectives, a little surprised, "No arguments?"_

_Shockingly, it was Amaro who stood up for him. "She did ask for him, Cap."_

_Barba's eyebrows shot up and his heart clenched painfully. "She—she did?"_

_Nick's eyes were filled with an emotion Rafael couldn't quite figure out as he nodded, "Yeah. She did."_

_Barba could only blink, struck dumb until—"We're coming out!"_

_His head whipped over his shoulder towards the shack. At first glance, all he could tell was that Olivia was unmoving, strapped onto the stretcher held by the two paramedics. As they moved closer, he caught sight of a scary-looking neck brace holding her head in place and swallowed heavily._

_She was still out cold._

_Before Rafael could move towards the ambulance, a hand fell heavy on his shoulder. Amaro._

_"Barba," he'd never looked so serious, "Rollins, Fin, and I will follow in a squad car. Take care of her."_

_"I will. I promise."_

* * *

Someone had to stay behind. The words, though true, did nothing to soothe Cragen as he replayed the ambulance driving away once more in his mind. As the red and blue lights had retreated, Rollins had been the only one to confirm that he'd be staying; Fin and Amaro were already halfway up the dirt road by the time Cragen had waved her off after them. _Let them go_ , he'd thought. As the Captain, the boss, the one in charge, it was only natural that he'd have to be on the scene for the closure of this high profile case after all. Well, at least until CSU and the ME took over. Then he'd have to brief State Police. And 1PP. And if the press caught wind...

"Captain Cragen?"

Cragen startled at the unexpected voice, turning to see two men with jackets blaring "CSU" in large yellow letters jogging up to him, bags strapped over their shoulders, cameras in hand. Relief flooded his body as he cleared his throat, "I'm Captain Cragen."

"Nice to meet you," one man said, sticking his hand out to Cragen, who stared back, obviously ignoring his hand. The man dropped his hand awkwardly before rushing to speak. "We're sorry for the delay in our arrival but we're ready when you are Captain."

"Good." _About time._ After they'd gotten Olivia out of the shack, no one had been in or out of there. He still had no idea what to expect to find beyond the little he'd gotten out of his detectives. He glanced down at the mockingly silent phone in his hand once more before he sucked in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Let's go." He pushed open the door.

The metallic scent of blood mixed horribly with the musty smell of the old shack as Cragen stepped in, squinting from the fluorescent lighting. He pushed out of the way of the two men, careful not to disturb anything as he took in the scene. His first impression was chaos and that was **before** his eyes zeroed in on the prone body of Albert Jones. An upended table had clearly sent things flying; the floor was littered with various objects including _—_ his stomach rolled _—_ a knocked-over chair with ripped duct tape. He pushed the picture of Olivia duct-taped to the chair from his mind as quickly as it came and his eyes shifted to dark red. The gray concrete under Jones's dead body was slick with blood, the worst of it concentrated under the gash in his neck. The blood was already congealed, the edges of the crimson pool already beginning to dry. He swallowed heavily as he tore his eyes from the garish sight before clearing his throat. He turned to address the man from CSU.

"Photo and bag everything. We'll need to confirm that Albert Jones was the Pinky Pervert," his eyes shut briefly as his voice cracked, guilt twisting his guts as he spoke the dreaded words, "with or w-without Detective Benson's statement."

* * *

_Not again._

_That's all she could think as Olivia fought against the heaviness of her eyelids, the darkness threatening to pull her under. Her head still hurt. No. No, this was more than hurt. This was agony. Before she could help it, a moan of pain broke through her lips. She couldn't bring herself to care. She was in too much pain._

_Maybe it would be easier to slip back to the dark… Just for a little bit. Just for—_

_"Liv?"_

_Her eyes shot open. Rafael. It couldn't be._

_"Liv!"_

_His voice! It was him! But where…? The light was blinding. All she could do was blink as tears ran down her face. Why couldn't she move her head? Or her arms? Her stomach sank as it hit her. Oh god, no. It was a trick. A fucking trick, it had to be. She must be with **him** still. Her face crumpled and she started to sob, twisting in a pathetic attempt to get whatever was holding her down OFF. Now. Get it off, get it off, get it off!_

_"Get it off her! Can't you see it's—!"_

_Something, no, someone had ripped it off for her. But why would Jones…? Did she really kill him? Everything was too confusing, too bright, too loud. And her head… She brought her hand up slowly, ignoring the jumble of voices and noises as she touched the hair on the back of her head, wrinkling her nose as her palm became covered in a warm, sticky, something._ Blood _, she realized._ That's my blood _._

_"No, no, sweetheart don't do that."_

_She didn't flinch when these hands touched her wrist. This touch was gentle, calming. Maybe Rafael **was** there. She grasped wildly for the hands, for the semblance of comfort and safety they gave her. They gave hers a gentle squeeze, a thumb moving to brush hers. She knew these hands. Rafael. He was there._

_She could barely whisper, "Rafa...?_

_"Yes!" he cried, "Yes I'm here, it's me," Rafael sounded on the verge of tears._

_"You… You found me." She sounded confused, disbelief coloring her voice._

_His hands gave hers a gentle squeeze, "We did, you're safe now Liv, I promise, we're on the way to the hospital. I—"_

_"Sir," Olivia's eyes flew open at the unfamiliar voice, "Please give her some space."_

_Her breath caught as his hands left hers, panic rising in her chest. "Rafael? Rafael where—?"_

_She gasped as her hands were captured once more before recognition hit her; she relaxed when he spoke, "I'm right here, Liv, I promise."_

_"When he—I thought—" a sob cut her off, "I thought I'd n-never see you again. P-Please, don't leave me."_

_His voice was thick with tears, "I couldn't. I promise, I **promise,** I won't leave you."_

_Any semblance of control crumbled under the weight of his words, under the relief and raw emotion crashing over her; it stole her breath, filled her eyes with tears, closed her throat. Grief, overwhelming, painful anguish shook her body. She could only manage one word before it became too much: "Stay."_

_His promise floated over her as she sunk into darkness. "Always, cariño. Always."_

* * *

She looked so… small. That was his first thought as Rafael stepped into Olivia's hospital room hours after he'd watched, tears pouring down his cheeks, as they wheeled her away. She looked small and it petrified him. The Olivia he knew wasn't small.

"Barba."

He couldn't move. He could only stare. What had that bastard done to her?

"Barba! Move!" Nick's tone was harsh and impatient, cutting through Rafael's stupor enough for him to shift to the side.

Where Rafael froze at the sight of Olivia, Amaro lurched forwards unconsciously as he caught sight of her, pushing past him, desperate to get closer. Nick collapsed into the chair next to the bed as Rafael sucked in a shaky breath, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, his eyes searching her face for answers. Her face was pale making the daunting bruise on her check darker. Her neck was still in a brace and the back of her head was bandaged.

As the doctor—Dr. Hernandez Rafael remembered—closed the door behind them, Rafael whirled around bursting with questions.

"Before you say anything," she interrupted, putting her hands up reassuringly, "Detective Benson is stable. She's suffered a bad knock to the back of her head but we're not seeing any swelling of the brain."

"Are you sure?" Nick eyed the doctor skeptically, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he recalled her slurred speech and unfocused eyes.

"We're positive."

"But there was so much blood," Barba said, his face twisted with worry while his hands closed reflexively. He'd finally washed her blood off a while ago but he could still feel it, still smell it.

"Head wounds do tend to bleed a lot," Dr. Hernandez explained, "But Detective Benson should make a full recovery."

"Should?"

"That's the bad news. The fact she still hasn't woken up gives cause for concern. But like I said, the CT didn't show any swelling. We're cautiously optimistic. Until she wakes up though, we can't make any promises."

"Then there's no point in telling us this," Barba snapped. "What else? Did he hurt her?" Rafael sucked in a deep breath. He had to know. "Did he…?" Rafael swallowed heavily; he couldn't say it.

Amaro could. "Did he rape her?"

"No," Dr. Hernandez said softly, "There was no evidence of trauma."

The two men let out a collective breath. The tears Rafael had been holding in finally spilled over. "T-Thank god."

"Yeah."

A heavy quiet fell over the four of them with nothing but the steady beep of Olivia's heart monitor and the muffled noise of the hospital around them to keep their worries company.

After a beat, Dr. Hernandez cleared her throat, "I'll leave you to it then unless you have any other questions?"

"No," Nick said bluntly. Rafael shook his head.

She nodded before leaving. As the door clicked shut, Amaro turned back to face Olivia. "So what now?"

Barba could only whisper, his throat stinging with tears.

"We wait."

* * *

Olivia's eyes flew open in a panic as a shriek burst from her lips. Her heart was racing, sweat coating her back. As she blinked slowly, her vision swimming to focus, her shriek devolved into a groan of pain. All she could see was the white ceiling above her. And all she could feel was pain.

When she tried to move her head she let out another groan; for some reason she felt like she should've known, she couldn't move her head. Why couldn't she move her head? Her throat reflexively closed with anxiety and she squeezed her eyes shut. She hated not knowing.

Oh god, wait. She remembered.

She'd been in an ambulance. With Rafael. His words whispered through her mind, _"You're safe now Liv, I promise, we're on the way to the hospital."_

He'd promised he wouldn't leave her.

"Rafael?" Her voice came out in a pathetically small whimper. He had to be there. She'd break if he wasn't. "Rafael? Are you there?"

The silence was deafening and crushing. Her lip started to tremble as a tear rolled down her face. He'd left her. He'd actually—

"Yes!"

Her mouth dropped open.

"Yes, I'm so sorry, I'm here! Oh god, Liv, I'm here!"

* * *

He didn't mean to drift off to sleep. After three hours of nothing but the occasional sigh, twitch, or cry from Olivia, sheer exhaustion had just won out. He didn't even drift into a restful sleep; his dreams had been troubled and oddly vivid. He kept reliving the ambulance ride, watching Olivia's terror, so when he woke to the sound of her scream he was slow to react, unsure if his dream had crept into his reality.

It hadn't.

He couldn't tell if Olivia was awake from his seated position as he blinked the fog of sleep from his mind. A part of him doubted what he'd heard as he looked over to find Amaro's seat empty. _Huh, I wonder where—_

"Rafael?"

His mind went blank, utter shock and disbelief stealing his speech. His mouth was gaping and he could've sworn his heart stopped.

"Rafael? Are you there?"

_Oh god, Rafael, snap out of it!_

"Yes!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet, "Yes, I'm so sorry, I'm here! Oh god, Liv, I'm here!"

He brought his hand out to grasp hers as he maneuvered next to her until their eyes met. Olivia was gasping now as tears ran down her face; they matched the tears of relief running down his.

"Oh sweetheart, are you okay, are you in pain, I can get a nurse!"

She squeezed his hand gently and he fell silent.

It took her a couple seconds to calm her breathing before she choked out one word: "Jones?"

Rafael knew exactly what she meant and rushed to assure her, "Jones is dead. He's dead, he's never going to hurt anyone again."

She closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Good."

Rafael searched her face, desperate to help her. Maybe she'd want someone else? He swallowed heavily before speaking.

"The squad is here, Liv. Amaro was in here before I fell asleep. If you want, I can go get—"

"No." Her grip on his hand intensified.

"Okay."

Her eyes locked with his, her expression serious, almost pleading. "Don't go. Please. Not yet."

"Of course, Liv," he said, bending over to press a soft kiss to her temple. Her heart swelled as she felt his lips move against her skin. His voice was deep and raspy with emotion as he whispered to her, "I'm yours. And I'm not going anywhere."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter made my heart all soft when I wrote it. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did... Let me know!

"Are we done here?" Olivia asked wearily as she rubbed awkwardly at the bags under her eyes with her left hand. She'd use her right but unfortunately, it was both immobile thanks to this damn IV and currently busy gripping the hospital bedsheets in a desperate attempt to keep herself together. God, she just wanted to sleep. Her head was killing her.

"Absolutely. Thank you for your patience, Detective Benson." This IAB woman, Sergeant Powell… Olivia wanted to strangle her. Her voice grated on her ears and positively **dripped** with pity. Olivia couldn't help but sigh with relief as the sergeant stopped the recorder she had propped up on the small table and began to gather her things. Finally. She missed Rafael.

"I trust IAB will be in contact soon?" Captain Cragen asked expectantly as he stood from his seated position by her feet.

The woman nodded, "I'll be forwarding you her statement later today. This really shouldn't take too long," Powell added, "As long as everything lines up with the evidence, this should all be cleared up within a day or two." She turned to Olivia who braced herself. She had that fucking look on her face again. "I wouldn't be too concerned, okay Detective? Don't worry about anything but getting back on your feet."

A mixture of sharp anger and embarrassment at the reminder of her reclined position had her gritting her teeth but Olivia managed to bite her tongue. For the most part. "Yep." Her p popped as she gave Powell a rather unconvincing smile, "Will do."

Her captain shot her a concerned look at her overt and bracing sarcasm. _Damnit._ Too harsh.

Cragen cleared his throat awkwardly, "Well if we're all done here, I'm sure Detective Benson would like to rest." He leaned over to her a spoke in a quieter voice, "I'll be right back, Liv." Olivia nodded.

"Of course," Powell exclaimed as she gravitated towards the door, clearly having gotten the hint. She gave Olivia a quick nod of farewell that she blatantly ignored before turning back to the captain who had opened the door for her. As Powell stepped through the doorway, Olivia slowly began to let go of her grip on the sheets and her body relaxed.

She let out a deep sigh, letting her head drop towards her chest. The simple movement caused her to wince heavily; her eyes prickled with tears. As she let out a groan, frustration and anger began to bubble up from her stomach. This feeling was already too familiar. Her face crumpled as the overly friendly voice of her doctor echoed in her head. _"Mood swings are very common for this type of head trauma. You may feel more volatile than usual, but that's normal, okay?"_

Normal. Right.

A small knock on the door caused her to startle, effectively pulling her from her thoughts when her head throbbed once more.

"Hey Liv, I'm back." Her captain's head stuck out from behind the door.

She stifled her pain and waved him in, "Come on in Cap. You got rid of her fast."

"Years of practice," he said with a smile, closing the door behind him. As he made his way over, she couldn't miss the way his eyes zeroed in on her IV bag and heart monitor before their eyes met. To her immense relief, his expression was devoid of pity but despite that, he still seemed to pick up on how much she hated him seeing her like this. "How long are they keeping you here?" he asked, settling into the same chair he'd been in during her statement.

Olivia shrugged, "I don't know yet. They're worried about my concussion."

"That's understandable. When we found you…" his voice trailed off and his eyes grew distant, "You had us scared there, Liv."

Olivia swallowed heavily as she began to sweat. "I'm just glad you did. I just wish—I still don't remember!" Frustration reared it's ugly head once more as she rubbed at her forehead with one hand. Giving her statement had been hard for many reasons, but memory recall was a big one. At one moment, everything would seem jumbled up in her head and the next it'd be crystal clear. One thing was for certain, however. The fear was there, jumbled or no. As her heart rate began to speed up, she lost the ability to censor her speech and blurted out the first thing on her mind, "Where's Rafael?"

Cragen didn't blink. "I think he stepped out to grab something to eat. He made sure to tell me earlier that he'd be back soon," he said, quick to reassure her.

Olivia nodded and sucked in a breath. "Okay. Okay good." As she began to calm down, she realized she hadn't—

"He told me about you two, don't worry," Cragen said with a wink.

"Oh," she said, a little shocked. _How did he always do that?_ How did he know she was just about to disclose?

"Although, to be honest, even if he hadn't told me, it would've been obvious. He cares Liv."

Olivia's lips curled into a small smile. "I know."

"Good." Cragen gave her a crooked smile, "I'll have you know, though, he's been made well aware that if he hurts you, he'll have to prepare to keep his eye out for several well-armed cops. The jury's still out but I think he knows I was only half-joking."

At this Olivia let out a bark of laughter that quickly devolved into a groan of pain, "Shit, sorry, son-of-a—!"

Cragen jumped up from his seat in alarm, "Do you need me to call a nurse?"

"No—Agh—Sorry, no, I'm fine."

"Sure you are. What are they giving you for pain meds?"

Before she could answer, they were interrupted by a knock at the door. She jumped involuntarily and gasped as her pain spiked.

"Liv?"

Olivia could make out Rafael's silhouette through her haze of tears and waved him in, not trusting herself to speak just yet. As the door opened, shining light directly into her eyes, the throbbing of her head grew to a roar in her ears and her eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down her cheeks. Somehow through the pain, she vaguely recalled what her doctor had told her, _Deep breaths, Olivia. Deep breaths._ She sucked in a shaky gasp. And another, and another until the roar dulled down.

"…go if that'd be easier."

"It may, but I don't want to tell you what to do, captain."

"I think I'll update the rest of the squad and come by later."

"I'll let her know."

Olivia didn't have the energy to make her lucidity known. When her eyes finally opened a crack, Rafael was there alone, seated right next to her.

"Hey there," he said softly.

She clumsily brought her hand up to put a finger to his lips. "Shhh…" At his light confusion, she pointed her finger at her head, "Ow."

He let out a small laugh and whispered back, "I'll shut up. But first, I just want you to know the nurse is on the way with pain meds."

"Mhmm… Thanks."

A comfortable silence fell over the two until it was broken minutes later by the arrival of her nurse. A whispered explanation from Rafael and a nod of confirmation from Olivia was all she needed before the nurse swapped out her IV bag from a simple saline solution to one that had Olivia sighing deeply a minute later as the throbbing in her head finally dulled. She knew she didn't have much time before the meds would knock her out so as the nurse closed the door, she turned her head towards Rafael who cocked his head in response.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I just… Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"Everything."

* * *

"No," Olivia said three days later, shaking her head, "This is ridiculous. I don't need a babysitter!"

"I'm sorry Ms. Benson, but this is only out of concern for your health."

"It's **Detective** Benson, and I can take care of myself! I just want to go home. Alone."

Oh to be alone! She'd almost forgotten what solitude was like, what it was like to sleep through the night without being prodded awake every four hours to check vitals, what it was like to simply go to the bathroom without dragging that stupid IV with her.

Dr. Hernandez gave her a sympathetic frown, "You don't really have much of a choice, Detective. Unless we know you have someone at home to monitor your progress, we can't in good faith let you leave."

Olivia let out a huff of air as she shot daggers at her doctor, "I don't need your good faith, I need to go home!"

"Liv…" Rafael said quietly, "She's got a point."

"Not you too!" she exclaimed, "I can't just conjure up some at-home nurse, Barba, I live on a detective's salary I can't afford—"

"I can do it."

"to pay for—wait, what?" Olivia gave a double-take, staring at him shocked.

He felt heat rise in his cheeks as he repeated himself, "I can go home with you. Help you out until you're cleared."

Olivia immediately shook her head, "I understand the concern but—"

"But nothing," he interrupted, "Please. Let me do this for you. I know how much you hate it here."

God she did. "But what about—"

"My work? I can do it from home. **Please** Liv," he begged, "I just want you to be s-safe."

Olivia's heart clenched as his voice cracked, effectively robbing her of the ability to protest. As she stared back at his pleading expression, she broke.

"Fine."

"Thank you."

The doctor cleared her throat awkwardly. "In that case, we can begin to get you out of here! I'll start the paperwork now and then I'll go through the information you need to adjust back at home, sound good?"

Olivia nodded her consent, waiting until her doctor left before turning to Rafael.

"Rafael… Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. Absolutely." His expression was serious and filled with the stubbornness she'd grown to expect.

"Okay," she said softly. "I guess we're doing this."

He gave her a soft smile, "Hey don't worry. I'm not that bad, honest."

"It's not you I'm worried about Rafa."

At this, his forehead wrinkled in confusion, "Oh?"

"I'm still recovering," she elaborated, her speech becoming more agitated as she continued, "I've never been good at accepting help and I've been having these awful mood swings and I don't want to lash out at you but between the headaches and these fucking flashbacks I—"

Rafael lightly touched her wrist, drawing her attention before he reached forward to push her hair back from in front of her eyes, "Woah, woah, woah, hey!" Olivia stared back at him wide-eyed. His green eyes were intense but strangely calming. "Hey. It'll be okay Liv. It'll be okay. **We'll** be okay. Now let's talk this through, alright?"

She gave a small nod before swallowing hard, "Okay."

He dropped his hand from her face only to hold hers as he spoke, "You said you've never been good at accepting help?"

She shook her head in affirmation. "Never. I just—I've always had to fend for myself. It doesn't come very naturally to me."

"Okay, well, how about this? You trust me?" he asked.

Her response was instantaneous. "Yes. More than you know."

He gave her a shy smile and squeezed her hand, "Good. I trust you too." He paused for emphasis, "More specifically, I trust you to tell me when I'm being a hovering bastard who needs to back off." He shot her a crooked grin as she let out a little laugh-hiccup and sniffled, blinking back tears, "And," he looked her in the eyes, "I trust that you'll ask for help when you need it, if you can trust that I'm not going to think you're weak or–or," he stumbled over his words.

"Or helpless?" she whispered.

"Never!" He looked shocked at her word choice. "Never helpless, Liv."

She nodded slowly, "Okay. Okay, I can do that."

"Good. As for mood swings, what do you mean by that?"

She gestured at her face, "This! I'm on the verge of tears right now Rafa! I don't—I don't **cry** ," she sounded disgusted, "and yesterday I almost bit Amaro's head off when he asked if I'd eaten. And my poor nurses!"

Rafael nodded contemplatively, "What did your doctor say about it?"

She let out a bitter laugh, "That it's 'normal' with this kind of head trauma. And that after a 'traumatic event'," she rolled her eyes, "some volatility is to be expected. That doesn't mean I don't hate it."

Rafael gave a sympathetic grimace, "Hmm... well if that's the case, I'm not sure how much I can help with that, unfortunately... But I do know this," Rafael said with a particularly determined expression, "My mother has always said this, and God knows you know this by now, but I'm damn stubborn Olivia. When I care about something, and I care about you, I don't quit. Ever. So I can promise you. It'll take a lot more than some tears or angry outbursts to drive me off."

Olivia smiled, "You are a stubborn bastard aren't you," she said teasingly.

"Guilty as charged," he smirked. His smile slowly faded as he came to her last point. "You've been having flashbacks?"

She immediately diverted her gaze. "Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Okay."

"Okay?" she looked surprised that he wasn't pressing her for more.

"Yeah," he said simply, "If you don't want to talk about it, I understand that and I'll respect it. Just know, I'll be here. May it be tomorrow, months from now, whatever, if you want to talk about it, I'll be here for you."

She stared back at him, a little dumbfounded. "Oh. Okay."

"If you do get a flashback and I'm there though," he added on second thought, "Is there anything you want me to do?"

She paused, thinking a bit. "Don't, uh, don't touch me? And, um, maybe try talking to me."

"Okay," he responded, taking a mental note. "See? We'll be okay, Liv."

"Yeah," she said with a smile. Before Rafael knew what was happening, Olivia leaned forward to kiss him gently. His eyes flew open in surprise before they fluttered closed, his body relaxing. Their kiss was soft and sweet and warm. When she pulled away moments later, she was blushing. "Yeah. We will be just fine."

* * *

"Liv?"

_His breath was hot against her neck. "SHUT up!" Oh god, she was choking, her lungs were screaming for air but she couldn't breathe. Shouldn't breathe. She could feel the rough fabric, smell the sweet scent of—_

"Olivia?"

_No, no, no, her limbs and eyelids were heavy but her head was light and spinning._

"Olivia!"

She gasped, blinking rapidly. As her eyes focused, Rafael's concerned face swam into view, and embarrassment stabbed at her stomach. "I—shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

They were standing in front of the elevator to her apartment lobby. "You don't need to apologize Liv. C'mon, let's get you home."

She didn't have the energy to respond as she moved to step into the elevator, her eyes betraying her and flicking back towards the door to the stairwell that had caused this whole mess. She shook her head rapidly and pushed forward. As the doors slid closed, she gave in to her exhaustion and shuffled closer to Rafael who couldn't help but smile a little as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

After a moment, he spoke softly, "I've got to punch in the number cariño."

"Hmm? Oh. Right."

She moved back a bit to let him punch the number in; the second he was done, she claimed his shoulder once more and they let the sounds of the elevator surround them. It was almost peaceful, Olivia thought, the whir as they ascended, the small clicks as they passed each floor. At the ding indicating their arrival, however, she shook herself out of it and pushed off of him, ready to lead the way.

As she unlocked the door and stood aside to let him in, she stared down at her keys. "I'll need to make you a copy of these."

He nodded but didn't comment as he hung his coat on the hanger by her door. "Are you hungry?" he asked as she headed towards her kitchen.

She shook her head, "Not really. I think I just want to sleep." After a pause, she turned to him, "Oh shit, I'm sorry, do you need to run to your apartment to grab things? If you want, I have some sweats you can use?"

"Could I?" he asked, "I'd go now but it's kinda late. I'll stop by tomorrow and pick things up but I'd rather stay for tonight."

"Let me grab you some," she started towards her bedroom, "Do you want a shirt too?"

"Please."

As she came back out, one of Olivia's eyebrows quirked upwards at the sight of Rafael bent over the couch. At the sound of her feet, he looked up and smiled, "Thanks Liv. I'll get changed and then if you need help with anything, just let me know, okay?" Before she could ask him what he was doing, he bent back over and continued to rearrange the pillows on her couch. "The doctor said I'll need to be in every four hours to make sure you're okay, so when I knock—"

 _What the—?_ "When you knock?! Rafa, you're not sleeping on the couch!"

He looked downright perplexed as he straightened up, dropping a pillow.

"I'm not?"

"Why would you sleep on the couch?"

"I just— I wasn't sure if you wanted space?"

"You ridiculous man," she said with a small smile, not unkindly, "Come one. You're sleeping with me tonight."

"If you're sure."

"You trust me?"

"Yes."

"I'm sure."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost at the end my friends. Just two more chapters after this.
> 
> Now let's see, what has this chapter got? Vulnerable Liv, protective Barba? Check. Angst and comfort? Check. Showering...? Hell yes. This was fun to write. Lemme know how you guys like it.

Sleep was tugging at his eyelids but Rafael could only stare down at Olivia's sleeping form, eyes stinging with tears, a lump of emotion in his throat. He had never before been filled with such raw relief and gratitude. The fear that had been haunting him ever since he'd heard she was missing, it seemed, had finally, **finally** , melted away.

As his hand absentmindedly fiddled with a lock of her hair, Olivia let out a small sigh and shifted in her sleep. He once again reminded himself that he should do the same, try to sleep, but if he was being honest with himself that just seemed impossible. How could he sleep when her head was tucked into the crook of his arm like this? How could he sleep when every rise and fall of her chest quelled the fear that he would wake up and find her gone? Every second with her was precious now. To be here with her... Nothing could compare.

"Don't." Olivia's face crumpled and her body jerked. "Don't, no. Stop."

Rafael's heart clenched. He couldn't risk touching her but maybe...

"Olivia?"

She jolted but didn't wake.

"It's okay Liv."

She gasped, shooting straight up. She turned to see him and flinched before recognition flooded her face. "Rafa?" Embarrassment began to color her cheeks.

"Sorry to wake you, it's been four hours," Rafael fibbed, hoping to relieve her of her embarrassment. "Go back to sleep."

Her voice was thick with sleep but he could hear her relief. "Oh. Okay." She sucked in a deep breath and laid back down before turning to him. "Can I...?" she gestured at his shoulder.

"Of course cariño," he said with a small smile, "Lay all over me if you want."

She buried her face in his neck. Her voice was muffled, "You wish, Barba."

He chuckled softly. "Oh shush," he whispered, planting a kiss on the top of her head, "Ya duérmete, cariño." _Go to sleep._

"Mhmm..." she hummed softly. "G'night Rafa."

"Goodnight Liv."

* * *

Olivia woke up to the smell of coffee in the air and the feeling of tears on her cheeks. Her skin was crawling. She rolled over onto her back with a groan, blinking up at the ceiling, defeated. As she wiped at her cheeks, a lump in her throat, she sucked in a shaky breath in an attempt to shake off the lingering dread. But that was hard when his words were still echoing in her head.

_"Take off your clothes."_

She shuddered, bringing her hands to cover her eyes. _Don't think about that._ Jones grinned down at her in her mind's eye as Olivia dragged her hands down her face and frantically shook her head. Her head throbbed from the sudden movement but the pain successfully cleared away the fogginess of sleep, cleared away his taunting face. Now fully awake, Olivia pushed up onto her elbows and her eyes scanned her bedroom.

Rafael, unsurprisingly, wasn't there. Besides the smell of coffee, she had vaguely registered the lack of warmth next to her right away, and the muffled sounds from the kitchen soon after that.

Speaking of. A particularly loud clatter stole her attention, and her head turned to look at the door to her left. What the—?

She swung her legs over the side of her bed and slipped her feet into her slippers. Before she stood she was careful to grab a hold of her bedside table; she hadn't forgotten the other day when she'd stood up too fast and dropped to the hospital floor. She still had the bruise on her hip. She steeled herself and stood. To her relief, the ground beneath her didn't sway; she let out a sigh, smiling. Progress.

After a quick detour to her closet, Olivia headed towards the kitchen, wrapping her cardigan around her body. "Rafael?" she called out as she opened the bedroom door. "Is everything alright?"

As she rounded the corner, she was surprised to find him standing immobile at the counter. When he looked up, she couldn't help but smile at his expression before he looked back down. He was currently staring down at her kitchen counter with a truly scandalized face. He had apparently pulled everything out from her fridge. "Everything" being half a quart of milk, some ketchup, a single cup of yogurt, and an entire jar of pickles.

"Good morning?" she asked heading towards the coffee maker.

"You barely have any food here, you know that right?" he said without hesitation.

She smirked, "Morning to you too." When he stared at her, her face split into a grin. "Pickle?" she offered.

"I'll pass," he said, rolling his eyes, "Why? Is that what you usually have for breakfast, Detective?"

"I usually grab something on the way into work," she shrugged, grabbing a mug from her cabinet. "I hate cooking." When he continued to look put off she frowned. "What's the issue, Rafa? We can just order in."

He pouted, "I wanted to make you breakfast."

Warmth bloomed in her chest and her lips curled into a shy smile. "Oh."

"Tomorrow," he said with an affectionate smile. "How did you sleep?"

Her smile faded as she shrugged, "When you weren't waking me up?" she said in an attempt to keep the conversation light as she busied herself with pouring coffee, "Could've been worse."

He nodded slowly having sensed the change in her mood. After a pause, he spoke, "How about that breakfast, huh? What do you want? I have to drop by my apartment quick anyways, I can pick something up on the way back."

"You don't have to do that," she said automatically.

"Liv," he said, shooting her a look, not unkindly, "It's not a big deal."

She stared him down, unable to maintain a straight face as he raised an eyebrow with an exaggerated expression of feigned sternness. "Fine, fine," she acquiesced, "I'll take a bagel."

"Thank you," he said sincerely, "Come here." He held his arms out to her and she moved immediately, setting her mug down and crossing the kitchen to melt into his embrace. She sucked in a deep breath, reveling in the comforting warmth and the security his strong arms brought her. His hand ran up and down her back slowly before he pulled back to place a kiss on her forehead. His voice was rough with emotion when he spoke. "Do you want to come with me?"

She grimaced, remembering how her head had spun in the car the day previously. "I think I'll stay," she said, "My head and all."

"Okay then," he smiled down at her fondly. "I won't be gone long then." Olivia nodded, about to pull back when he remembered something. "Wait, before I go," he said on second thought, "Do you have any appointments today?"

She shook her head. "I need to make a few though," she paused, frowning. "The department wants me to see a shrink," she confessed.

Rafael nodded slowly, "And you? Is that something you want?"

She breathed in heavily through her nose, her eyes closing briefly. "Not necessarily. But I think I'll need it." Rafael said nothing but reached forward to grab her hand. She smiled softly as she squeezed it, rubbing at her eyes as she prepared herself to tell him more. "Not many people know this, but I was assaulted on the job a few years back. I, uh, I didn't really tell anyone about it. No one knows really knows the details besides Fin, and that was only because I had to tell him," she explained. She looked up to see Rafael listening intently, waiting for her to continue. There was no judgment in his gaze. "I think it made things a lot harder. Not talking about it." Her face grew determined. "I won't make that mistake again. I want to heal, Rafa, to move past this."

"If anyone can, it'd be you," Rafael said seriously, cocking his head to look her in the eyes, "And I'll be here for you every step of the way."

"I know," she said softly, "I know."

* * *

It was only after Olivia's reassurances that she'd be okay with waiting a little for breakfast—"I do have a whole jar of pickles Rafael," she'd said with a smirk—that Barba agreed to take some extra time to gather everything he needed from his apartment. It was looking like the doctors would want someone to monitor her for at least a week or two anyway, she'd argued, so it only made sense that he'd take the time to get everything he needed now rather than rushing back here only to have to go back in a day or two. He couldn't dispute her logic and gave in without much of a fuss, already making mental notes of what to grab as he gathered his things.

As Rafael shrugged his coat on, she opened the door for him and felt an unexpected rush of sadness that brought a lump to her throat. She frowned. What was the matter with her? He wouldn't even be gone long. She shook off the feeling as Barba pushed back against the door and paused to look over at her.

"Hey… Take things easy okay?" he asked leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

"I'll be sure to run a marathon," she promised with a smirk, the humor not quite reaching her eyes as he rolled his at her, "Joking. I'll be careful."

"Thank you. I'll see you soon cariño," he said, stepping through the doorway.

"Bye Rafa."

And the door swung shut.

Olivia sighed deeply and turned around to face her empty apartment, leaning with her back against the door. Everything was so quiet. So still. It hit her all the more at that moment how much this didn't seem real. That she was back. A little worse for the wear, albeit, but alive. But it **was** real. She ran her hands through her hair and pushed off the door, making her way over to her couch. She was so exhausted all of a sudden; she sank into the cushions leaning her head back until—

She yelped, jumping to her feet as a loud thunk from the kitchen sounded out through the apartment, setting her heart racing. Her eyes were wide, her senses heightened as she made her way cautiously forwards, fighting her dizziness. A small part of her was whispering at her, telling her she was fine, that it was nothing but the pounding in her ears said otherwise, demanding that she check. She had to know. Her body jolted as the sound came again. Wait. _No. No way._ She knew that sound. She couldn't even register her relief over the biting, burning, shameful fury. It was her fucking ice machine.

She stalked towards her fridge on the verge of tears, her emotions swirling in her chest, and yanked the door open. Without a second thought, she grabbed the ice tray and smashed it onto the ground sending ice flying as she let out a scream of misery and sunk to the floor clutching her head. She hadn't even touched the ground before her body began to heave, wracked with gut-wrenching sobs that had her bending over, her lungs screaming for air. Miraculously she avoided smacking her head against anything as she slid onto the cold tile floor. And there she stayed, not even moving when the door opened more than an hour later, not evening moving when Rafael called out to her.

* * *

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Olivia didn't look up from her position on the floor. "No." A pause. "Later."

"Okay."

His voice was kind. Comforting. Olivia looked up at him and caved. "I thought... The ice machine... It made a noise." Her face crumpled and she swiped at her runny nose. "I-I thought it—"

Rafael crouched down, concern all over his face, "I know."

She couldn't look at him. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice small.

He shook his head, "Don't apologize."

"Okay." She sucked in a shaky breath and squared her shoulders. As she struggled to stand, Rafael backed off and stood, looking uncertain.

"Do... Do you want help?"

"No, I can do this." She gritted her teeth, grabbed the edge of the counter, and yanked herself up. Before he could say anything, she began to rummage through the bags on the counter. "Did you get my bagel, Barba?"

His lips twitched into a half-smile, "I got it right here." He gestured at a brown bag on the countertop and she snatched it.

"Thanks." She was looking everywhere but at him as if searching for a distraction from the vulnerability she'd just displayed, "What's all this?"

"I got some groceries," he replied, picking up on her need to gloss over this for now. "I still have some of my things in the car... I can get them now? Or later?"

Olivia felt a sudden rush of affection at his thoughtfulness. He was giving her a chance to pull herself together. "Now's fine. I think I'm going to shower. Feel free to stick whatever clothes you have in my closet if you want."

"Okay, Liv."

As he went to move towards the door, she reached out and grabbed his hand. "Rafa?"

"Yes?"

"Join me. When you get back?" She looked cautious, hopeful. "I just—I want you close to me."

He pulled her into a hug. "I'd love nothing more."

* * *

Olivia hissed and twisted out of the way of the hot water as she stepped into her shower, turning the knob frantically as she swore.

Still cursing softly, she stuck one hand into the spray as the other wrapped protectively around her shivering body. She felt like she'd been slapped awake. She'd been out of it, floating a little as she undressed but the unexpected heat had quickly snapped her back to earth. Eventually satisfied with the temperature, she stepped under the water and let it wash over her as the tension melted from her shoulders. She closed her eyes and tipped her head up to let the water hit her face; the warm and gentle pressure of the water on her eyelids combined with the way her hair grew heavier and warm seemed to wash away her problems, her shitty day. Her day... Ha. It was what twelve o'clock? One at the latest? Her day wasn't even close to over yet.

As she wiped at the water in her eyes, a small knock broke over the sound of running water. "Liv?"

"Come in."

"Okay." He pushed the door open slowly, peeking his head through the door.

She rolled her eyes. "Come IN. Here. With me." She paused. "Please?"

That was all he needed to hear. He opened the door and stepped in, already unbuttoning his shirt. Olivia stepped aside as he climbed in moments later, watching the water flatten his hair and pour down his body before she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you," she whispered.

He kissed the top of her head, "Always."

They stayed that way under the water relishing the intimacy of each other's skin until Olivia finally stepped back to grab her shampoo. Rafael beat her to it. "May I?" he asked.

She simply nodded in response and turned around as he began to lather his hands. "Could you lean your head back?" he whispered softly. As she did, sighing quietly, he began to slowly run his fingers through her wet hair. She let out a content groan as he gently massaged her scalp, a delicious shiver running up her spine. As the sweet smell of her shampoo washed over them, Rafael tried to place the scent to no avail. It wasn't floral, it wasn't fruity, it was just... Olivia. "Rinse now?" he asked after a moment. She hummed her agreement and he stepped aside to allow the water that had been hitting the back of his neck to wash over her shoulders. Sighing once more, Olivia stepped back under the water allowing the soap to run out of her hair. When her eyes fluttered open, they met his. He looked at her questioningly and she nodded. He drew closer until they were almost toe-to-toe and brought his hands up to cup her face.

When he kissed her this time, it felt like he was drinking her in, starved for her. It was as if he were drowning and she, well, she was his lifeboat. His lips were soft but intense, his hands slipping into her hair gentle yet insistent. She felt wanted. She felt loved.

When she kissed him back, her hands drawing them closer, it felt as if she'd broken free, as if she'd let go of all restraint, as if she **trusted him**. Her tongue slid into his mouth hot and persistent, meeting his and he responded with equal vigor. He felt trusted. He felt loved.

As she pressed her body against his, Rafael groaned and Olivia gasped sharply at the feel of his hard cock against her hip. Their eyes snapped open and locked; the heat in his gaze was matched in her eyes. He let out a groan as she palmed him in her hand and pushed him against the wall, water cascading down her shoulders.

"I want you, Rafael."

Her words were his undoing. He ran his hands up her sides, bringing his hands up to cup her breasts and she threw her head back, giving him the access he needed to suck softly on her neck as he ran his thumbs over her sensitive nipples. As quickly as they'd come, goosebumps broke out across her skin when his hands disappeared. He kissed his way up her neck and swallowed her groan of annoyance and pleasure as he kissed her once more.

"Liv..." he breathed, "Liv, I—"

"Shh," she cut him off with a scorching kiss and he growled.

"Liv please," he whispered, his voice rough, "Not in here. I don't want to fall."

She let out a whine, "Ugh, fine."

Liv turned the knob shutting the water off and rung her hair out. She ran her eyes up and down his body, biting her lip, and his eyes narrowed as she smirked and leaned out to grab a towel. She toweled herself off quickly and effectively before chucking it at him. He caught it with a laugh and began to dry himself as she climbed out slowly.

Her hair was still dripping when he climbed out after her so she grabbed a second towel and attacked her hair as he watched with amusement. "What are you looking at?" she asked smirking.

"You."

Olivia blushed. As she turned to head into the bedroom he grabbed her hand. "Liv. Are you sure about this?"

She turned back to look at him, bristling. Her annoyance faded as soon as she looked him in the eye. There was no pity in his gaze. Nothing but concern and... and love. She nodded slowly and stepped close. "I am, Rafael."

His eyes were warm as he slipped his hand into her wet hair, caressing the back of her head and tilting her head up to kiss her softly. She sank into the feeling, absentmindedly running her fingers up his spine causing him to shiver. She broke away, cheeks pink, and pushed the door behind her open. He followed her eagerly as she made her way over to the bed, meeting her as she paused to continue their kiss, to run her hands through his hair this time. He couldn't help the little moan that escaped his lips as her nails scraped against his scalp and she pulled on his hair. She smiled against his lips at the noise.

"Mmm cariño, do that again," he sighed.

She laughed and ran her fingers through his hair once more before falling gently back onto the bed, dragging him with her. They landed on their sides, facing each other, and paused, just taking in each other's expressions, their flushed cheeks, their eyes both lit up and filled with emotion.

"What did I do to deserve you?" he asked softly as he pulled her close. Olivia said nothing instead rolling them so that her body was draped over him, her thigh resting between his legs, her head resting against his chest. A sweet but significant silence fell as they laid there together, Olivia listening to his heartbeat, Rafael breathing her scent in. Everything was perfect.

It was later that afternoon when the tension had grown to be too much when they finally moved. When they did, they did so slowly, savoring every touch, every moan as he moved inside her languidly. When she finally came, it was with his name on her lips and her hands in his hair as he drew out her pleasure for as long as he could until he could take it no more and he too came with a cry. They ended up in each other's arms once more, whispering to each other all words but I love you.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter definitely came out a lot more bittersweet than I had expected but I kinda like it that way. I wanted this chapter to not only bridge the events between coming home and the next and final chapter but to also explore the process of healing and to look at how I think this trauma would affect Olivia's relationship with not only Rafael but also with herself. I sincerely hope I did this justice.

It was only fitting that it would rain on her first day of therapy.

Olivia had always had mixed feelings about rain. On the one hand, rain had always meant canceled plans, the uncomfortable chill of wet jeans and squishy shoes, the inconvenience of slippery floors. But on the other... Well, Olivia couldn't help but love the relaxing sound of rain hitting a car window, couldn't help but love the imagery of rain washing away the dirt and grime of the city, couldn't help but love that it felt as if the universe were pressing reset on the world for just a moment, allowing for the opportunity to start anew.

So yeah. It was only fitting that it would rain on her first day of therapy.

As the car parked, Olivia didn't move and continued to stare out at the rain. Her eyes followed the gradual descent of a singular water droplet slowly making its way down the window before the sound of Rafael clearing his throat broke the spell. Olivia jumped and tore her eyes from the window to look at him as he spoke.

"Do you want me to come in with you?" he asked quietly.

Olivia shook her head. "No, I need to do this alone."

"Okay. I'll be here for you when you're done," he said softly, taking her hand and gently running his thumb across her smooth skin.

Olivia gave him a small smile, "I know. Thank you." She sucked in a deep breath that did nothing for her nerves and squeezed his hand before opening the car door. She blinked as rain hit her face, cold and bracing. Before she left, she turned back to look at Rafael. As their eyes met, warmth bloomed in her chest and she gave a short nod. She was ready.

* * *

Nothing about the women sitting across from her should have caused Olivia to feel so hostile and yet she did. Maybe it was the way Dr. Stanton's hand hadn't trembled when she'd held it out to her while Olivia's had shaken like a leaf, her palms clammy and cold. Or maybe it was the ease in which Dr. Stanton had smiled at her when she introduced herself, so confident and calm, while Olivia had to force what she was sure was an awful grimace, her stomach too knotted up for a proper greeting. Or maybe it actually had nothing to do with her department-issued therapist at all and instead everything to do with the fact that she did NOT want to talk about her goddamn feelings any more than she wanted to talk about what happened in that goddamn shack.

"So… Detective Benson," Dr. Stanton said once she was properly settled into her chair, "Why don't we start with why you've come in today?"

Olivia suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Do you watch the news, Dr. Stanton?" she asked dryly.

She nodded slowly, "Yes, I do."

Olivia laced her fingers together and leaned back in her chair. "Then you know why I'm here."

"I may know what led you here but I don't necessarily know **why** you're here," Stanton countered, "For all I know, you could just be here because the department required it of you."

Olivia let out a deep sigh, "Fine. I'm here because I want to move past all this," she said gesturing vaguely towards her head.

Dr. Stanton nodded, her expression unreadable. "Did the receptionist tell you what to expect for this first session?" she asked abruptly.

Olivia shook her head and Stanton smiled and shook hers too as if she should've expected that. "That's what I thought. Have you ever been to therapy before?"

"Not one-on-one like this."

"Good to know," Dr. Stanton jotted something down before leaning forward, her hands beginning to move as she explained, "Okay, so this first session is going to be pretty different than what a normal session would look like. This first session is dedicated to getting to know each other, figuring out what needs you'd like us to address, and getting an idea of what sort of things you know work for you."

Olivia nodded slowly and sat up a bit to listen.

"In order to do this," Stanton stated, "I'll be asking you questions about your home life, about any symptoms you may be experiencing, as well as other various questions about your past. But," she added, "I want to stress that you don't have to answer anything you don't want to."

 _Thank god._ Some of the tension in Olivia's shoulders melted away. "That's good."

Dr. Stanton gave a hum of agreement before continuing. "Finally, we'll end today's session by coming up with a plan of how we'd like to go forward if that's what you'd like to do." Stanton paused to let the information sink in. When Olivia didn't speak, she pushed forward. "Now before we begin do you have any questions for me? As much as this is about me getting to know you, this is also about you getting to know me."

Olivia shook her head rapidly, "No I, um, I'm good."

"Okay then." Dr. Stanton clasped her hands together with a determined expression that simultaneously made Olivia nervous and assured. Her enthusiasm was definitely off-putting but at least she seemed to know what she was doing. "I suppose we'll get started whenever you're ready Detective."

"I suppose we will."

And they did. They touched on almost everything as Olivia sat there and answered question after question after question. It felt like Stanton had put her entire life under a microscope in the span of 2 hours and fuck it sucked. By the time they were finished, Olivia was drained, her head was pounding, and her nerves were shot. She left with her shoulders glued to her ears and the echoes of Dr. Stanton's "professional opinion" in her ears. _"It seems like you're dealing with a lot right now. I think we should plan to meet three times a week."_ For a second there, Olivia had thought she was joking. Three times a week?! Fuck that. Olivia scoffed as she looked up to the cloudy and darkened sky and pulled her phone out of her pocket to call Rafael. As she dialed his number, she shook her head. Three times a week... That just seems excessive! Surely they would run out of things to talk about.

But they didn't.

Unsurprisingly, it took an entire session to work through the details of her kidnap and despite her mental preparation, Olivia still left exhausted after having reluctantly looked over the statement she'd given to 1PP, adding supplementary comments here and there as she desperately tried not to cry. To her surprise, Dr. Stanton hadn't pushed her for details or given her any of the pity she'd been expecting. Instead, she'd given Olivia some surprisingly helpful grounding exercises for the next time she had a flashback.

_"And if that doesn't work," Dr. Stanton added, "it may be helpful to hold onto something cold, like a cold water bottle, or maybe some ice, and just focus on the way it feels in your hand."_

_Olivia let out a dry laugh. "So you're telling me when I smashed my ice tray onto the kitchen floor the other day, I could've just picked up one of the ice cubes and that would've helped? Great!"_

_Stanton smiled indulgently, "Well it wouldn't be instantaneous, but yes, it might've helped. The purpose of these exercises is to get you focused on your reality through your five senses, to pull you out of those invasive memories."_

_"I know," Olivia said, waving her hand, "But that still would've been nice to know."_

She'd been expecting something radically different for her third session, especially after the focus on her kidnap the last session but instead, they had talked about Rafael. First about her guilt surrounding his prolonged stay at her apartment and second—Olivia had broken down in tears at that point—about his cufflinks. More specifically, about the conversation, she and Rafael had had about it the night before. That night, she'd told Stanton, Olivia had woken with a cry, her heart pounding as sweat poured down her back.

_"I was—I was gasping," Olivia's hands rose distractedly towards her neck, "I could just... feel his hands on my neck."_

_Dr. Stanton nodded, encouraging her to continue._

_"I must've woken Rafael up. He, uh, he didn't look very surprised to find me there," Olivia said with a self-deprecating half-smile._

_"Do you have nightmares often?" Stanton asked softly._

_"Yeah." She paused, staring down at her hands before she shook herself out of it. "Anyways, I told him to go back to sleep, but he wouldn't. He's a stubborn son of a bitch," she said fondly, her lips twitching upwards. Dr. Stanton chuckled. "But yeah, he kept saying my name in that—that **voice** of his." Olivia's eyes welled with tears as her voice shook. "He was so good about it, I still can't believe it. He'd just held out his arms and we laid there together until I'd stopped shaking."_

_"Did you guys talk about it?"_

_Olivia nodded, "Yeah. After a while, he asked if I wanted to talk. Normally, I'd never but I actually said yes. I don't know. Maybe it was the way he was playing with my hair..."_

_Stanton frowned. "You speak of it as if it was a bad thing. Talking about it."_

_Olivia sighed deeply. "Well, yes and no. When I told him that," she paused as her lips twisted into a grimace, "that Jones had stolen his cufflinks from me, he was shocked. But it was like once I started, I couldn't stop. I told him everything. About how he'd taunted me, how he tried to use those fucking cufflinks as leverage, how he told me he'd_ — _" Olivia's voice cut off as she gagged. "Sorry, sorry. I told him how Jones threatened to leave his cufflinks in my dead mouth as a gift for 'my boyfriend' to find." Her eyes burned with unshed tears. "The look on Rafael's face..." Her voice cracked. "I put that there. All that pain, that guilt... I never should have told him."_

_Dr. Stanton gave her a look. "Would keeping him in the dark really help your relationship, Olivia?" she asked as she leaned forward._

_Olivia pursed her lips and said nothing._

_"How did he react?" Stanton asked, ignoring the look Olivia gave her._

_Olivia's head dropped into her hands as her tears finally fell. "He just... held me. We cried together."_

_With her eyes covered, Olivia missed the soft expression on Dr. Stanton's face._

This wasn't the last they spoke of Rafael. He actually came up a lot during these sessions but besides this one, he was never the main topic of conversation. Or he wasn't until she was cleared by her doctor three weeks later.

Up until this point, Olivia and Rafael had fallen into a comfortable routine. He worked from her apartment, for the most part scheduling important meetings during her various appointments when he had to, while she pretended that the guilt of keeping him from his work wasn't eating her up inside. When she wasn't at her doctor's office or her therapist's she was confined to her apartment, stuck with trying to find something to do when reading, watching TV, and pretty much all physical activity gave her a headache. After about a week, the answer came to her in the form of baking. Something about it was calming to her and it gave her something to do that wasn't too strenuous while also providing the means of alleviating some of her guilt. Rafael, she'd found, had a sweet tooth and she quickly became addicted to the look on his face when she passed him a cookie or brownie while he was on a call at her kitchen table. She lived for her evenings with him and that quite honestly scared her.

It was this fear that caused her to push him away when she'd finally got the all-clear from her doctor.

_"You should go back to work. Like normal."_

_Rafael looked up from his book, unsurprised. He'd been expecting this._

_When he said nothing, Olivia continued, "I'm cleared to drive now, I can take myself to my appointments. You should go back to work." She paused debating whether or not she should say it. Her lips chose for her. "Back to your apartment."_

_He frowned deeply at that. "Back to my apartment?"_

_She nodded, biting her lip._

_He let out a sigh, "Is that really what you want?"_

_She couldn't look at him. "I don't need a babysitter, Rafael."_

_He closed his book and stood. "Is that really what you think this is, Liv?"_

_The hurt in his voice stabbed at her stomach. "No, I just—I feel guilty, okay?"_

_"Guilty for keeping me from my work?" he guessed. She said nothing. It was a rhetorical question. His expression softened as he made his way over to her. "Hey," he said bringing his hands to cup her face. There were tears in her eyes. "You are so much more important to me than my work."_

_"But—"_

_"Stop, Liv. I'm serious." He looked it. "I want to be here with you and unless you can look me in the eyes and say you don't want me here, I'm going to stay. Not because I have to, or because of your head or anything else, but because I care about you and I love being here with you."_

_She couldn't look him in the eyes._

_"Please don't push me away, Liv," he said softly._

_The sincerity in his voice called to her and she finally looked at him. "Okay," she whispered. His smile was all the confirmation she needed as he leaned into his kiss her softly. They poured everything they had into that one small kiss as Olivia wondered not for the first time if this was what love felt like. When they pulled back, they just stayed there until she broke the silence a moment later. "But you'll go back to work?"_

_He looked down at her pleading eyes and nodded._

She relayed this entire conversation to her therapist the next day, fretting over the logistics and the implications of their words and what this could mean for their future until Dr. Stanton stopped her in her tracks with one question.

"What about **your** work?"

Olivia gaped at her. "My work?"

"We haven't talked much about how this experience will affect your ability to do your job. With the nature of your abduction, I have to ask, is SVU still the place you want to be?"

She didn't hesitate. "Absolutely," she stated. "That's not even a question. I love my job. My work is my life."

"Is it, though?"

Olivia opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out.

* * *

The air smelled like coffee and New York and Olivia loved it. As she kept her eyes peeled, soaking in the sounds of the diner, her hands wrapped her cup almost protectively and she frowned. She couldn't understand the nervousness biting at her stomach. She shook off the feeling and stared down at her coffee. Just as she reached to take a sip, the jingle of the door opening caught her attention and she grinned. His face lit up as he caught sight of her and he made his way over.

"Nick!" she cried happily, placing her cup down to push out of her booth.

Amaro held his arms out to her, "Liv, it's so good to see you!"

"Likewise," she said, stepping into his embrace. After a beat, she stepped back, still holding onto his coat as she asked "How have you been?"

He shrugged, still grinning. "I've been alright," he said. The sound of someone clearing their throat cut him off and he turned to find someone waiting to get by. After a quick apology, they slipped into the booth.

"You were saying?" she prompted once they were settled.

"I've been good, it's really just been a lot of the same," he said, "Although, I must say Liv, interrogating perps hasn't been quite as much fun without my partner."

Her lips twitched as she rolled her eyes, "Ah, you flatter me."

"Maybe a little, but it's true," he said as he shrugged his coat off, "But forget me, how have **you** been? How's your head?"

Olivia's smile dimmed a little, "Could be worse, I guess," she observed, "I'm still getting these awful migraines if I try to think too hard. But honestly?" She picked up her coffee cup. "I've been doing okay. Not great, but okay."

Some of the tension in Amaro's shoulders melted away as she took a sip. "I'm so glad to hear it. Really Liv."

Olivia gave him a fond smile that he returned. "Thank you."

After a pause, his smile became a smirk. "How are things with Barba now that that cat's out of the bag?"

Her face immediately brightened, "He's been wonderful, he really has, Nick."

Amaro felt a rush of affection for his partner, "I'm really happy for you," he said sincerely, "You just tell him that he better stay wonderful or he'll have to answer to me," he jokingly warned.

"Mhmm," she hummed, rolling her eyes at his protectiveness, "I'll be sure to relay the message." Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she shook her head at him. She stopped as his face grew serious.

"I've gotta ask, Liv," he said quietly, "When are you coming back? We miss you." His eyes were searching, his face filled with concern.

Olivia sighed at his question and his expression and turned to look out the window. Although she knew her silence was making him nervous, she just looked up at the sky, partially blocked by the city she called home. _Looks like rain._

When she finally turned back, he was still waiting for her, no judgment in his gaze _._ Her eyes closed briefly.

"Soon. I'll be back soon."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck with this fic, and with me, to the end here. Writing this fic has been so fun and rewarding these past months and getting your feedback has been simply put, amazing. You guys are the best. I hope this last chapter is satisfactory and thank you, thank you, thank you again for reading Dangerous Distractions.

He'd handed her the coffee cup without thinking, really. Originally it was going to be his, but she'd been running around the kitchen muttering under her breath and panicking a little so when she'd stuck her hand out he just... handed her the coffee cup.

And now, instead of thanking him, she was standing there shooting daggers at his little smirk as she sucked down **his** goddamn cup of coffee.

"Glare at me all you want cariño," Rafael snarked, "but it was you who dragged me into the shower this morning, was it not?"

Her lips twitched as she shot back, "Maybe, but you didn't have to be so thorough about it, Barba!" The glint in his eye screamed, _Oh, but I did._ She ignored it, "I'm gonna be late now 'cause of you," she complained half-heartedly.

She set the cup down and went to swerve around him only to be foiled by Rafael as he blocked her and pulled her in for a chaste kiss. "You loved it," he breathed, laughing at her feigned annoyance when she pushed him away good-naturedly moments later and made her way to the door. "I am sorry you know," he added, following her and waiting for her to pull her shoes on.

"Oh, I know," she said fondly. She shrugged on her coat before pausing and allowing him to gather her up in his arms.

"You'll do great today," he whispered, fisting her hair as he breathed in her comforting scent. She simply sighed as some of the tension in her shoulders melted away. His heart swelled with pride and the words he'd been grappling with for weeks finally fell from his lips before he could stop them. "I… I love you."

Olivia gasped and pushed him away, "Rafael!"

His heart stopped. Oh god, what had he—

"You can't say that **now**!" she cried, her voice thick with emotion, "I'm gonna look a mess, I just did my makeup, and I have to leave!" A tear ran down her face as she gave him a watery smile, her eyes filled with affection.

Rafael scowled as relief and annoyance flooded his body, "Really, Benson? Really? You gave me a heart attack!"

"We'll call it even then," she said thickly as she wiped under her eyes, blinking rapidly.

"Even?!" he cried.

She grinned at his scandalized expression cheekily before she looked at her watch and frowned. "I really do have to go, Rafa," she said dejectedly, "I promise I'll make it up to you," she reassured him, kissing his cheek before opening the door and stepping through. When he went to close the door, she grabbed it. "By the way, Rafa..."

He eyed her radiant smile curiously, "Yes?"

"I love you too."

* * *

Olivia couldn't help but linger outside the doors to the precinct as a twinge of doubt twisted her stomach. Her decision to come back had not been taken lightly. She'd known first-hand going into this the dangers of PTSD especially when working Special Victims and for herself and the people she worked to protect, she'd known she couldn't go about this like she had after Sealview. So instead of rushing forward, instead of begging her captain to return like she'd wanted to, she'd waited. And waited…

While Amaro had been the first to ask when she was coming back, he predictably hadn't been the last. It was as if their conversation at the dinner had shattered some sort of invisible barrier that kept her squad from reaching out, from assuming she wanted space. Of course, every one of them had stressed how much she was missed, but despite the way her heart had clenched at their words, despite the way she found herself itching to drive past her therapist's office and keep going until she got to the precinct, something… something had held her back. She'd tried to brush the idea of returning aside, to make it a problem for later, but when her doctor had scheduled her next appointment for next month instead of next week Olivia had found herself physically incapable of ignoring it anymore.

_Olivia leaned forward in her chair, her eyes distant. "I've been working Special Victims for over a decade. A **decade**. And in all that time, I have **never** doubted that I wanted to be there. Hell, even when I chose to leave, I wanted to be there." She let out a huff of air, amused, "You know, I worked an SVU case while undercover for the FBI once. In Oregon. My handler was pissed."_

_Dr. Stanton's eyebrows shot up, "Wow. That's dedication."_

_Olivia shrugged, "It comes with the job."_

_"But now you're doubting whether or not you want to go back," Stanton prompted. It wasn't a question._

_Olivia's nose scrunched up and she let out a hum, "Mmmm, I mean, not really. It's more… doubting whether or not I can handle it."_

_Dr. Stanton nodded, her eyebrows furrowed. After a moment she leaned back and cleared her throat. "You know… I actually cleared you for work a week ago."_

_Olivia's mouth dropped open a little, "You…? You did?"_

_Stanton nodded. "I did. Olivia, the fact that you're worried about it tells me you'll be okay." She gave Olivia an amused little half-smile, "Ironically, you're far more self-aware than you think. Trust yourself."_

Trust was hard these days. So still she waited until she could wait no more. Until the death of Albert Jones's third victim.

Olivia had gotten the news of her death the day after her talk with Dr. Stanton. Sophia Waterhouse, age 42, would never live to reach 43. Everyone had known her odds of coming out of her coma weren't good but the news had still hit Olivia hard. She went alone to the funeral two days later, joining the many friends and family members who had filtered in and out after the service to share a private moment with Sophia, joining the constant stream of black misery while Sophia's husband kept vigil by the coffin. He, who had never left Sophia's side as she laid in that hospital bed, remained steadfast now too, never wavering from his spot next to her coffin. He only looked up to speak to a few people that day and Olivia had been one of them.

_"I am so sorry for your loss, Mr. Waterhouse," she said softly, a weight on her chest, on her shoulders._

_He could barely look at her._

_The quiet was deafening and heavy, the murmur of mourners a hum in the background that did nothing but amplify the overwhelming grief emanating from the tired man next to her._

_She cleared her throat, "I should go—"_

_"No. Stay." His voice was rough and thick with tears. "I want to thank you. The other detectives told me what you did."_

_Jones's final words whispered in her ear._ What did you do? _Her body went rigid._

_"Detective?"_

_Olivia blinked rapidly, shaking her head as bile rose in the back of her throat. "I—I'm sorry."_

_His expression was too shrewd, too understanding for her liking, leaving her feeling raw and exposed. "Don't apologize," he said firmly, "It's because of you that my Sophia will—" his voice cut off into a sob—"Will be able to rest peacefully."_

_Olivia said nothing, her eyes distant. Quiet settled over them again._

_"I don't know what you've been through," he said suddenly, "but I do know that he hurt you. For my sake," he placed his shaking hand on the smooth, curved oak, "For hers," Olivia's heart clenched, "Please don't give up."_

_Olivia's eyes closed briefly and she nodded. "I won't."_

In the end, it had been all the confirmation she needed. Olivia couldn't let that bastard win. She wouldn't.

She thought of Katherine, of Emily, of Sophia, Susie, and Heather, as Olivia grit her teeth and opened the door.

* * *

"Surprise!"

Olivia tried her best to look shocked as she took in the sight of Amanda, Fin, Munch, Cragen, and Rafael standing in her dining room and kitchen later that night, grinning ear to ear. She turned to Amaro who was standing next to her with a sheepish smile and shook her head as she stepped into her apartment. While there weren't any balloons or streamers—not really her style—she saw bags of take-out, wine, and beer and there was some music playing lightly in the background. It was perfect.

"You guys," she cried happily, "You didn't have to do this!"

"Yeah, well if it makes you feel better, this was all Barba's doing," Fin said putting his hands up, "I just showed up."

Olivia rolled her eyes, shaking her head as Amanda elbowed him in the side, "Real nice Fin," she drawled.

"Don't exaggerate, Fin, it wasn't **all** me," Rafael said from his spot in the kitchen while Olivia shrugged her coat off. "Amaro helped too." Olivia's eyebrows shot up and he smirked at her. "I needed help to stall you, after all."

"I never thought I'd live to see the day," she said, half-joking. She turned to the others and pointed at them, "Okay, which one of you kept them from killing each other? And how?"

Amaro shot her a dirty look, "Ha ha, Benson, very funny. No one did anything because we're good now, right Barba?"

"It was Munch," Rafael immediately deadpanned causing Nick to scowl.

Olivia and Rollins laughed at Amaro's affronted expression while Munch puffed out his chest, "All in a day's work."

Nick bristled, starting up with an "Oh, please Old Man—" just as Fin turned to Rollins rolling his eyes with a "Yep, I'm going to need some beer." Whatever response either had was lost to Olivia as conversation broke out, giving her the opportunity to hang up her coat. She took in the scene with a fond smile before she set down her purse and bent over to take off her shoes. When she stood back up, she instinctively found herself searching for Rafael but Cragen caught her eye and waved her over. As she joined him, leaning against her couch, he gave her a proud smile.

"It was nice having you back today."

Olivia's eyes landed on her partner and she nodded, "It was good to be back," she replied warmly.

Cragen cocked his head to the side, catching her eyes, "I'm proud of you, you know," he said sincerely.

She blushed lightly, "I know," she said softly.

Before Cragen could respond, Nick called out to her over the music, "Am I right, Liv?"

"Go," her captain said quietly when she looked at him, "Join him, he's been miserable with you gone. We'll talk later, okay?"

"Okay."

Cragen patted her on the arm, gave her a significant nod, and gravitated to where Rafael was pulling cartons out of take-out bags.

Olivia's lips twitched as her partner frantically waved her over and again said, "Liv, c'mon, tell Munch I'm right."

She wasn't falling for that one. "Right about what?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at Nick as she joined them. Munch winked at her.

"Oh c'mon, just say I'm right," he said, looping his arm around her shoulder.

"How about no," she snarked, grinning at Munch.

Before long, everyone was hungry and gathered around her table, beer and take-out in hand. Olivia, who'd been too distracted talking to everyone to grab anything at first, stared down at the leftovers on the kitchen counter with indecision before she was joined by Rafael who slipped her a take-out container of her favorite sweet and sour chicken and a fork.

"I hid your favorite," he said quietly.

Their eyes met and Olivia was hit with an overwhelming rush of gratitude and affection. She said nothing, choosing instead to stay there with him if only for a moment. As she leaned against him, side-by-side in her kitchen, and watched her squad laughing and chatting away, the world seemed to brighten a little and she knew... Everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thank you again for reading. So much. It's because of your amazing feedback that a huge part of me didn't want to end this fic but alas, it had to end lest I ruin Dangerous Distractions with dangerously unplanned epilogue chapters. I didn't want to do that to you or to this story and I pray this ending was as satisfying for you as it was for me. Feel free to let me know if otherwise so my *next work* doesn't fall victim to any flaws this story had (queue the shameless promo...)
> 
> So this fic has finally come to its inevitable end. A shame, I know, but to soften the blow, I'll leave you with the promise of more to come! I am currently working on a new multi-chapter Barson fic that I hope to get out in the new year—I'm not sure when but definitely in January—and in the meantime, I'll continue to add to my Barson one-shot collection (So It's a Little Cliché if you want to check that out). This new fic will be slow-burn and angsty and will span the second half of Season 15 onwards, exploring the complexities of how a little bit of compassion could affect Olivia and Rafael's relationship. Keep an eye out!
> 
> Thank you again,
> 
> Justabensonfanatic


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